


Jersey Boys

by Gannicus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, No Sex, Romance, Teen Romance, Teenage Castiel/Teenage Dean Winchester, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:27:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gannicus/pseuds/Gannicus
Summary: Human Cas AU: It's the summer of 1996, and 17 year old Dean Winchester just wants to have a normal life for once. If only. At the beginning of the year, his father sent him on his first hunt alone, to burn the remains of two nuns that were discovered to be in love. The job was more than practice- it was a warning. Dean listened. He's going to hide part of himself away, only be attracted to girls. Well, that's the plan anyway. But when Dean gets a job at a New Jersey diner, he can't help but notice that the eyes of his new 19 year old manager Castiel are the color of Lake Superior. And then Cas smiles at him, and it's hopeless. But with John Winchester and Castiel's own father determined to keep them apart, do Cas and Dean have a chance?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

Lake Superior. That’s where it was. They’d gone to Michigan on a hunt— Dean, Sam, and their dad. The trip to the lake was a treat after a job well done, a break. A light breeze had ruffled Dean’s hair as he stood on the bank and looked out at the lake. It was endless blue, an expanse of shining crystal that went as far as he could see into the horizon. 

They were the same color as the lake, this boy’s eyes. 

“Do you have any experience?” the boy asked, bringing Dean’s attention back to the reason he was here. 

Dean glanced at the boy’s shirt, a crisp white button down. He was wearing a name tag that said “Manager: Castiel” in clean, black capital letters. 

“I have experience in a lot of areas,” Dean grinned, staring boldly into this Castiel’s eyes. Confidence was key in these situations. He may not have had diner experience, but he was pretty sure serving burgers and counting change was easier than burning bodies. 

Castiel blinked slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“And that experience would be…?” he prompted, waving his hand over the table in a confused gesture. 

“I used to work in a restaurant in Michigan,” Dean lied smoothly, watching his interviewer carefully. “Last year, when I was 16. Taking orders, flipping burgers, the whole thing.” 

“That’s good,” Castiel muttered to himself, leaning over the sticky red table to write a note on the piece of paper in front of him. “Go on.” 

Dean shifted in his chair, the plastic cushion barely crunching underneath him. He tried to settle down. The best defense was a good offense. 

“What do you want to know?” His heart jumped when the boy across from him looked up from the paper and smiled at him. 

“How long did you work there?” 

“A y- six months,” he said, inwardly cringing that he’d changed his answer.  _ Come on, Dean. You’re a better liar than that.  _

But something about this Castiel smiling at him had shaken him, thrown him off. He hadn’t felt that way in awhile. And he’d told himself not to go there again. 

Cas set his pen down carefully. 

“Alright. Well, Dean, when can you start?” 

  
  


-

A light thud against the wall outside was the only indication that Sammy was home, kicking a soccer ball around when Dean got back. Dean didn’t look for him, but smiled as he turned towards the creaking stairs and made his way up to their apartment. Sammy deserved a summer to just be a kid for once. 

John was at the kitchen table, surrounded by newspaper pages spread wide on the table in front of him.

“I got a job,” Dean announced, carefully setting his keys on the kitchen counter. He eyed his father, leaning against the counter and waiting for a reaction. 

Dean’s heart sank when John sighed and closed the section of the paper he’d been reading, turning towards Dean with a frown. Dean wasn’t expecting a parade or anything, but he’d hoped his dad would be proud of him. It was his first real job interview ever. 

“Are you sure you want to take a summer off?” John said. “I was thinking of letting you take a case on your own again.” 

And what a gift that would’ve been. Dean tried not to remember the last time he’d been sent on a hunt by himself, but the ache in his stomach settled in anyway. 

Really, it was just a regular hunt. Burning the remains of two nuns that had been discovered to be secretly in love. They’d killed themselves when they were found out, and had returned as spirits. It was typical fare for Dean, who’d been digging up graves and lighting fires as long as he could wield a shovel and a match. 

John had said it was a good thing for Dean, to spend his 17th birthday figuring out who he was, and who he was supposed to be in life. Dean told himself that John just meant being a hunter. When he expected Dean to light up the remains of the forbidden lovers, he only wanted Dean to learn to be a hunter. 

He didn’t mean for Dean to throw a part of himself in the grave with them, or to promise himself that he’d get the message this time. He’d sworn to himself, eyes burning as he threw dirt back over the charred remains, that he wouldn’t rush to turn up the volume when Leonardo DiCaprio was on TV, pretending not to see his father’s raised eyebrows out of the corner of his eye. He’d keep his eyes down and his words purely civil the next time they had a handsome waiter at a diner on the road. If he got to go back to school this year, he’d bring the pretty girls home. He’d keep his thoughts about the pretty boys to himself. No, better. He wouldn’t have them at all. 

John was still waiting for Dean to respond.

“Yes, sir, I’m sure. I think it’ll be good for Sammy. If he gets this summer his way, maybe he’ll be more open to the way things are after that.” 

“You’re a good boy, Dean,” John said, nodding in approval even as his eyes returned to his paper. 

And he was. John wanted a strong son to follow his example, his rules, and his expectations. That was who Dean was going to be. 

__

A bell on the door jingled when Dean pushed his way into the diner the next morning. There was only one light on in the kitchen in the back, but the rest of the diner was dim save for the little streaks of light coming through the sides of the closed blinds in the windows. 

He wasn’t crazy about the uniform, a white button-down and khakis, but he had to admit he was excited. A lot of people didn’t like to work, but that had never been Dean. He was always open to a challenge. Plus, he liked to make himself useful. 

“Anyone in here?” he called, passing tables and booths on his way to the back. 

“Back here,” came a voice he already recognized. When his heart rate kicked up, he told himself firmly that it was just nerves about the new job. 

Castiel was leaning over a box in the back room just off the kitchen, with his back to Dean. Hm. Maybe khakis weren’t so bad after all. At least not on Castiel. 

“Here,” Castiel said, and Dean quickly pulled his eyes up when the manager turned around to face him. He handed Dean a handful of thin white napkins. “We’re filling the napkin dispensers on all the tables.” 

“Sure thing, Cas,” Dean said, turning. He caught a glimpse of Cas’s expression, of his raised eyebrows at the new nickname. Dean’s face heated but he didn’t say anything to mitigate it. He’d said what he said. Castiel was a long, weird name, and they were probably going to end up being friends anyway. 

Or maybe not. 

“No, that’s not right,” Cas said a few minutes later, coming up behind Dean as he was stuffing napkins in their little metal holders. “That’s too many napkins.” 

Dean was used to being told what to do by his father, and he didn’t have a problem with authority. But when his dad corrected him, it was about how to not get killed. Who gave a crap about how many napkins were in the stupid thing? He tried, really tried, not to roll his eyes. He mostly succeeded. 

“You’re the boss,” he muttered, yanking out a chunk of napkins and setting them on the red tabletop. 

By the time he’d finished with the napkins- with just the right amount of napkins in each holder- he already wanted to talk to Cas again. He was the only person in this town that Dean knew outside of his own family. Now that they were staying, it might be nice to make a friend. 

Cas was wiping down the bar with a rag when Dean sauntered over to him, grinning. 

“So, have you always lived in Jersey?” he asked, attempting an accent on the word “Jersey.” Cas laughed, and Dean felt like he’d won the lottery. When Cas laughed, it lit up his whole face. 

“Do I sound like it?” he replied, leaning over the bar top towards Dean. “No, we moved here from Utah after my mom left.” 

Dean stared down at the cleaning rag, laying forgotten on the bar next to Cas. That wasn’t the kind of detail you wanted to have in common with someone. 

“Yeah, my mom… too. But actually she died,” he said awkwardly, still not looking at Cas’s eyes. 

“Oh,” Cas said quietly, and Dean looked up. Those bright blue eyes held him as soon as he did. “Sorry to hear that.” 

For an undefined moment, they just stood and stared at each other over the bar. Dean struggled for something to say to break the tension, but his brain was frozen. All he could think about was how Cas’s eyes turned down in the corners, and how when he wasn’t smiling they gave him a permanent air of beautiful mourning. 

When the bell on the door jingled, they didn’t respond to it right away. Then Cas turned his eyes towards the door, and reacted immediately, as if unconsciously, to who he saw when he did. He leaned away from Dean and picked up the rag again, wiping it over the bar with a blank expression. It was unnerving, the way their moment disintegrated like that. 

“You must be the new employee,” the man said, flipping the “Closed” sign over to “Open” and closing the door behind him. The man had short blonde hair and a 5 o’clock shadow. He was about Dean’s height, but had an inner authority that made him seem taller. 

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, taking a step back from the bar. He snuck a glance at Cas, who was still staring down and wiping the counter. 

“Well, we’re glad to have you. My name is Mark. I’m always telling my boy here, employees are what will make or break your business.” He turned towards Cas expectantly, and Cas finally looked up. He nodded seriously. 

The man walked past them into the back, leaving them alone. The lights flipped on through the diner. Dean took a breath to restart their conversation, but Cas turned and grabbed a sponge from the sink behind the bar. 

“Here,” he said, looking towards the back in the direction the man had just gone. “The closers left some dishes last night. You can do them.” Dean accepted the sponge and walked past Cas and to the sink, picking up a glass cup. 

“Is that your dad?” he asked. Cas didn’t seem to hear him. He just stood at the bar with his back to Dean, head tilted to the side. What was he thinking about? “Dude, I said, is that your dad?”

Cas didn’t even turn around, just turned his head slightly in Dean’s direction. 

“Yes. Let’s just get to work,” he said, then walked out from the bar and into the kitchen. 

Damn. What was his problem? 

Dean was just finishing the dishes when two girls came in, wearing the same white collared shirts and khakis that he was wearing, but they were already wearing their red waist aprons. One was blonde and slender, and the other had thick brown hair and a round face. They were laughing when they came in, but stopped when they saw Dean. 

“Who’s the fresh meat?” the brunette said, staring up at Dean with a challenging expression. 

“‘Sup, ladies?” Dean replied, flashing them his practiced charming grin. “I’m Dean. Winchester.” 

“Name’s Meg,” the brunette said with an almost aggressive confidence. “This is Jo.” 

With her easy smile that contrasted with Meg’s brazenness, Jo was just the kind of cute girl Dean would normally go after, and the kind of girl John would be happy for Dean to bring home. He resolved to get to know her better. 

“Well, we’d better go,” Jo said, looking behind Dean. He turned to see Cas walking towards them, adjusting his waist apron. “The Dictator is coming. Don’t want to get yelled at for not working.” 

Did she mean Cas? He wondered which version was the real one. The one who’d laughed with Dean and confided about his mother? Or this Dictator? Dean honestly didn’t know which would be better. He liked the smiley Cas better, but maybe if Cas was really a jerk he’d have an easier time staying away from him. 

And he needed to, he reminded himself, thinking of his solo hunting trip. Stay away from him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe Dean was born to work at a restaurant. By the time he’d been working at the diner for a few weeks, he knew all of the regular customers’ orders, and talked to them about their families. All the girls that came in flirted with him, and he’d flirt back to be friendly. But just to be friendly, because he only wanted one person. 

Jo Harvelle. 

They’d had a few passing conversations about work schedules and customers, but he knew from the way that she stared into his eyes for a little longer than necessary that she was interested in more than that. So was he. 

Dean took a deep breath before pushing open the doors at work that day, the chiming of the bell sounding like an air-raid siren in his ears. Why he would imagine a warning bell was beyond him. Jo was a cute girl, and he liked her, and today he was going to ask her out. It was what he wanted. 

There she was, standing behind the bar, refilling a glass of soda. She glanced over when he came in, but turned away when she caught his eye, her long hair covering her face. 

“Heya, Jo,” he whispered, walking up to stand right behind her. “How you doin’?” She laughed, setting the drink on the counter and turning to face him. 

“I’m good,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows and giving him a once-over. He was still standing almost against her body. “Can I help you?”

“You closing tonight? If not, let me take you out.” The words just came out like that, so easy. Dean was a master with girls. There was no reason not to just stick with that. In this, Jo was no different than the dozens of girls he’d met over his life of traveling the country. She wasn’t immune to him. 

“Alright,” she said carefully, watching him. “I’m off at 6.” 

__

That was the beginning. They’d been on a few dates by now, a couple dinners and a trip to the arcade. More importantly, Dean thought, they’d had plenty of opportunities to hook up in the back of the Impala. And man, did Jo know what she was doing. She could do this one thing with her tongue that- well, they were getting along. 

By now, everyone at work knew there was something going on between them. Cas never said much about it. But Meg said enough about it for everyone at the diner. She was always making comments in the backroom that they used for a breakroom, wiggling her eyebrows and asking if she should leave the room whenever they so much as looked at each other. If Cas was in the room at the time, he’d stiffen and leave. Once or twice he’d told her she was being inappropriate. Dean thought he was pretty uptight. 

Today, Jo was the first person to greet Dean when he walked into work. He pushed open the glass doors with his hip as he tied his apron around his waist, smiling broadly at her from across the restaurant. She crossed the room, stopping just in front of him. 

“Would it be unprofessional if I kissed you?” he asked, staring down into her brown eyes. 

“Only if you get caught,” she said, raising her eyebrows in a quiet challenge. Dean was never one to turn down a challenge. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her softly, tasting her Dr. Pepper Lip Smacker chapstick. It was quickly becoming his favorite flavor. 

“Dean, Jo,” Cas said from out of nowhere, a hardness in his voice. “Can I see you two in the kitchen?”

Dean’s heart beat hard in his chest. Cas’s eyes had flashed when he made eye contact with Dean, and he looked like he was almost shaking. There was a quiet fury there that confused Dean, and made him nervous. There was a part of Dean, not that he was saying which part, that thought Cas’s raised eyebrow and dark expression in that moment were exhilarating. 

Jo winked at Dean before turning to follow Cas into the kitchen, and Dean tried to return her flirtatious expression. The knot in his stomach made it hard to cooperate. 

Cas surveyed the kitchen and looked out the window that showed the rest of the restaurant, like he was checking for witnesses. Dean gulped. 

“This is a place of business,” Cas said thickly. He swallowed, and his voice came out calmly the next time. “I understand that you two have a certain relationship, and that’s fine.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But you can’t just play tonsil hockey in a diner. People are trying to eat.”

Dean scoffed. 

“Tonsil hockey? Whatever, Chandler Bing,” he said. His laugh died in his throat when Cas’s stare pierced into his. 

“This is not a joke, Dean. This is my father’s diner. Show some respect.” 

Dean took a step forward. This was a complete overreaction, and he needed to know what Cas’s problem was. Jo wrapped her hand around his bicep, pulling him towards her and looking at him meaningfully. 

“We’re sorry, Castiel,” she said pointedly, motioning towards Cas with her eyes in a message to Dean. 

“Yeah, fine. Our bad,” Dean added. Cas sighed, and Dean could’ve sworn he deflated. 

“Get to work,” Cas said, turning his back to them as he suddenly became very interested in straightening out bags of hamburger buns. 

“What’s his problem?” Dean said to Jo when they’d left the kitchen. She straightened a menu at the host podium and smiled as he went on. “We didn’t do anything. He acts like he’s an old man and he’s what? 18?”

“19,” Jo corrected automatically.

“Whatever.” 

Dean tried to focus on his customers, but he couldn’t get rid of that lingering sense of irritation that the altercation had brought on. Who did this Castiel think he was with his stupid manager name tag and his stupid hamburger buns and his stupid blue eyes? Wait not that last part. But the rest! Dean was a good worker. So he kissed his girl. Big deal. That’s what you did when you had a girlfriend. 

And that reaction. What was with that? Cas had looked like someone had kissed  _ his  _ chick! Or boy. No, stay focused. For a minute there Dean thought Cas might actually hit him or something. 

That wasn’t very managerly of Cas. In fact, you could even say it was  _ inappropriate.  _ That gave Dean the kind of evil idea that made him chuckle to himself whenever he thought of it. 

“Hey Jo,” he said later, when they were in the breakroom. Cas was in the kitchen, close enough to hear if Dean spoke up. He made sure he did. He swallowed past a bout of uneven breathing before he tried out his new plan. “Your ass looks sweet in those khakis.” 

“Dean, stop,” Jo giggled, tilting her head in the direction of the kitchen to remind him that anyone could be listening. She sat down on a box of soda syrup across from him and put her hand on his knee. He barely noticed. He was too busy ignoring the butterflies that erupted in his stomach when he saw Cas clench his jaw. “Save it for tonight.”

Ooh, that was a good one. Dean almost gave her a high five before he realized she meant it. And then he realized she  _ meant it.  _ That was better than playing games with his manager. 

Cas threw down the notepad he was writing an order on and stalked out of the kitchen. Ha. Served him right for being a tool. 

“Do you want to have dinner with my family tonight?” Dean asked Jo when she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, before he even knew what he was saying. But it was a good idea. He’d been out with Jo a few times, and it would be nice for her to meet Sammy and his dad. His dad would really like to meet her. 

___

“When are you going to pick that girl up, Dean?” John asked as Dean was studying his hair in the hall mirror. “You better be going, it doesn’t look good to be late. It’s important to be a gentleman.” 

“Yes, sir, I know. I’ll leave now,” Dean said, grabbing the keys to the Impala. John was a new man suddenly. As soon as he’d heard that Dean was bringing home a girlfriend that night, as opposed to his usual casual fling, he’d started brainstorming restaurants for take out and yelled for Sam to set up the table. 

Dean could read on his father’s face how excited he was for a sign that his son was having a normal relationship with a girl. If it had been Sammy, though, Dean doubted John would be as excited. It was one thing for Dean to experiment with normalcy to make them all feel like the hunting life hadn’t completely screwed them up. It was entirely different to entertain ideas of leaving the family business for good. 

Plus, Dean figured it would be a relief to John that he’d understood the message when John sent him on a mission to burn the remains of the gay lovers. He was a good son, having dinner with a good girl. 

“So you’re the famous Sammy,” Jo said when she and Dean arrived at the apartment and met John and Sam at the door. “Dean never stops talking about how smart you are. And you must be Mr. Winchester. It’s so good to meet you.” 

“Call me John,” John said, reaching out for Jo’s hand and shaking it firmly. “We’ve heard a lot about you too.” Dean cringed. That was specifically on the list of things that he’d told his dad and Sam not to say. 

The house already smelled like Chinese food, and Dean walked into the kitchen to see piles of takeout boxes on the counter. They all filed into the room and filled their plates, settling down at the little kitchen table to eat. Jo talked about her mother and her brother Ash, telling stories about how Ash was an unruly toddler. As they all laughed and traded stories, Dean reflected on how nice it was to have an easy family dinner like this. No one fighting or making critical comments, not sitting at the table and eating alone when John was on a hunt for the weekend and Sam was at a soccer tournament. Just a night with Jo and his family. 

“By the way,” John said, cracking open a fortune cookie. “I spoke to your boss today.” Dean’s heart rose into his throat. He didn’t want to ask himself why. 

“W-who? Castiel?” he said, trying not to move too fast when he reached for the fortune cookie closest to himself. John furrowed his eyebrows. 

“No, Mark Novak. Cassiel is the kid’s name.”

“Castiel,” Dean said automatically, almost protectively. Sam looked at him thoughtfully. Dean avoided his eyes, reading the fortune from his cookie. 

“Well anyway,” John said, not listening. He took a bite of his cookie, the fortune lying abandoned on the table. “He came into the shop so we had a chance to talk while I checked under the hood.” John had gotten a part time job at an auto shop to keep him busy between hunts. “Got to talking about kids. I told him about you and Jo here, how that’s going.” Dean groaned. “What? Is that a secret or something, boy?” John laughed. “Feel bad for the guy, though. He said there’s something off about his kid.”

Dean’s head shot up from the cookie he’d been absently picking at with his fingers. 

“What do you mean?” he said quickly, too quickly. Sam was watching him carefully still. 

“I don’t know,” John said, narrowing his eyes intently at Dean. Dean shrugged and looked down again, trying to seem casual. “Just an odd kid. Never been too into girls, just does his own thing. His dad can’t figure him out. I said that’s too bad, my kid is just like his old man. Real ladies man.” He winked at Jo like it was a joke, but Dean knew him well enough to catch the edge in his voice that suggested a deeper meaning. 

_ You’re on the right track, son,  _ He was saying.  _ Don’t screw it up.  _ Dean crumpled up the fortune in his hand and shoved it aside on the table. 


	3. Chapter 3

It was starting to bother Dean, the way Cas never talked to him anymore. They’d been in the breakroom alone once or twice, but just when Cas shifted towards him and seemed to get up the courage to speak, Jo would walk in and his expression would turn to a stony neutral. Was he really holding a grudge about that stupid kiss? Sure, his dad’s diner was a big deal or whatever, but it’s not like Dean released a jar of cockroaches before a health inspection or something. 

But maybe. Maybe Cas was upset about the kiss because he didn’t like to see Dean kissing someone else. Ideas like that crept up on Dean when his guard was down, in the shower or when he was just drifting off to sleep. 

What if Cas had reacted differently? 

What if he had asked to talk to Dean alone, just as serious? But when they got to the kitchen he dragged Dean into the back and said, “I don’t want to see anyone touch you like that again. You’re mine”? What if he closed those bright blue eyes and kissed him? 

No. 

Dean was with Jo. And he liked her. They laughed together. When he turned to look at her in the passenger seat of the Impala, singing along to ACDC, he truly thought that she was beautiful. There wasn’t anything wrong with her that he could point to. But when she mentioned the future, he froze. Something as simple as “There’s a Boston tribute concert in August. Maybe we could go together” made him rush for an excuse. 

It was like he was keeping his future open, for a different Dean. The Dean of the future that might be able to stand up and say, “Dad, I want to choose my own hunts. Dad, I want you to let Sammy have a normal life. Dad, I like this boy.” 

The Dean of today wasn’t ready for any of that. But he was ready to force Cas to pay attention to him. Surely that wasn’t any kind of commitment. 

So he started a new game. He’d step on the back of Cas’s shoes when he walked by, take a fry off of a plate that Cas was bringing to a table, or blow straw wrappers at the back of his head. Was it immature? Absolutely. But hey, Dean had never been allowed to have much of a childhood. Besides, it was working. Cas would turn around and try to catch the straw wrappers or take a fry himself, shooting Dean that grin that lit up the whole room. 

Dean was sneaking the stickers they gave away with the kids’ menus onto Cas’s back whenever he walked by, and Cas was pretending not to notice. Dean could tell because he’d just barely pause when he walked by, giving Dean a chance to make sure they stuck before he got away. Dean was in his own world behind the bar, beaming at Cas’s back with a dreamy expression, when Jo came up to him. 

“Whoa,” she said, in a joking tone that hid just a hint of tension. “He sure makes you happy. Should I be worried?”

Dean instantly felt sick to his stomach. 

“What?” he gasped, shoving the stickers into the pocket of his apron. “Come on. I’m just laughing at him.”

“You’re making fun of him?” Jo asked flatly. Dean didn’t know whether she disbelieved him or just disapproved. Her eyes were sad. 

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly, the word tasting like bile. “He’s weird.” 

A waving customer caught Jo’s eye, so she left without responding. Dean breathed out heavily, letting himself relax. Jo hadn’t pushed the issue, so he was probably alright. Cas left the table he was talking to and went into the kitchen, walking quickly. Dean grinned. He couldn’t wait for Cas to come back from the kitchen so he could play with him more. 

Here he was now. Cas was coming out of the kitchen, staring down at an invoice for stock they’d ordered. The diner might have been on fire and he wouldn’t have seen past that paper, judging from his furrowed brows and close stare. Dean was just about ready to try out that theory. 

He crept up towards Cas slowly at first, and then ran, reaching and grabbing the paper out of Cas’s hands. Unfortunately, something had changed and Cas was no longer in a mood for games. Unfortunately, he had a really tight grip on the paper. Unfortunately, Dean tore the paper in half. Unfortunately, Dean failed to see this combination of events until it was too late, and laughed out loud when the paper ripped. 

“My bad, dude,” he said, flapping his half of the paper in Cas’s face. He let his arm fall when Cas looked up at him, his lips pressed tightly together. 

“Damn it, Dean,” Cas said evenly, even as Dean could see him slightly shiver. 

Dean waited, hardly breathing, to see what Cas would do. But Cas took a deep breath, crumpled the half of the paper in his hand, turned on his heel, and walked back towards the kitchen. 

Well, that wasn’t fun at all. Dean slumped into a booth, trying to reason away the sinking in his stomach. It wasn’t his fault that Cas had a stick up his ass. If he couldn’t see that it was a joke then that was his problem. All of a sudden Cas was taking being work appropriate seriously again? He had to get back on that high horse? He was just trying to have fun with the guy. He shook his head to himself, taking a deep breath and getting back to work. 

“You closing tonight?” he asked Meg later. It had been two hours and Cas wouldn’t even look at him. He was trying as hard as he could not to think about it. Was ripping a paper really crossing the line, though?

“I am. You, me, and Cas,” Meg said, grinning like she’d seen what happened earlier. She probably had. Well, at least he wouldn’t be alone with Cas. “Psych! It’s just you two. Have fun.” 

Dean stood rooted to the spot, the simple news crashing over him. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that much tension circling around the kitchen for the two hours it would take to close the diner. But it looked like he had no choice. 

He avoided Cas for the rest of the day, which wasn’t hard to do. If he went into the kitchen, Cas turned and walked out. When he took his lunch in the breakroom, Cas was suddenly too busy with customers to take his break until later. Maybe it wasn’t Dean who was avoiding Cas after all. 

__

“Make sure you boys do a full cleaning job tonight,” Cas’s father said as he was leaving. “We’ll have Saturday morning rush tomorrow so the openers won’t have time to clean up after you.”

“Yes, sir, we know,” Cas said, and Dean recognized the expression on his manager’s face. It was that “I really want to talk back but I know I’m not supposed to talk to my father that way” expression Dean had felt himself make a thousand times. Gun to his head, Dean could’ve sworn he saw Cas roll his eyes after his dad turned around. But surely that wouldn’t be appropriate behavior in his precious diner. 

“Let’s get to it, huh?” Dean said, laughing awkwardly. Cas had walked away to grab a broom from the back, and responded only by shoving it into Dean’s hands.

“Get to work,” he said, heading back to the kitchen and leaving Dean alone in the middle of the diner. Dean’s face burned. Castiel might be his boss, but that was no excuse to treat Dean like a slave. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he put the broom to the ground and did exactly what he was told. 

By the time he’d swept the floor, Dean had made up his mind that he was just going to have to call Cas out and ask just what exactly the hell his problem was. 

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice raised proudly like he was used to talking back to authority figures. Really, though, he’d always obeyed his father and had imagined that a manager was pretty much the same. Cas turned towards him, inspecting the floor of the diner. Dean opened his mouth, but Cas spoke before he could. 

“You missed a spot. Under that table,” he said, pointing. Dean didn’t see one spec of dust under that table, but he gave a half-assed attempt at sweeping under it anyway. Maybe now Cas would hear him out. 

“Refill the ketchup bottles,” Cas said when Dean was finished, his left eyebrow raised in an expression of authority. It made Dean want to spit in his face. Dean took a step forward, ready to finish this. Sometimes you just had to throw the first punch. Whether or not he noticed Dean’s change in stance, Cas stalked back into the kitchen. 

What was he supposed to do? Chase him? The few seconds that he watched Cas’s figure disappear into the kitchen gave Dean time to really think. What would his dad say if he got fired from his first job? Especially for fighting his manager? He’d say Dean was never meant to be anything but a warrior, a weapon. Maybe that  _ was  _ all he was good for, but he wasn’t about to prove it. 

So he refilled the ketchup bottles like a good boy, pretending the ketchup oozing into the refillable bottles was dripping from Cas’s nose after he’d punched him in the face. It would be more than deserved. He leaned into the mental picture, telling himself that that was what he wanted. A fight. A small voice in his mind begged him to acknowledge that Cas’s personality-180 had hurt him, but he wasn’t about to get into that. 

He followed Cas’s directions like that, taking out the trash and mopping the floor in the kitchen. To his credit, Cas was working the whole time too, but that didn’t make Dean appreciate his attitude any more. But finally, finally, they’d done everything. All Cas had to do was give it the manager once-over, and they could go home and end this miserable night. 

“You didn’t take the frying baskets out of the fryer and drain the grease,” Cas said when he got to the middle of the kitchen. “We have to wash those baskets, Dean.” 

“Oh yeah,” Dean said quietly. He breathed slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth. _ Don’t hit him, you’re almost done.  _ “Well no big deal, we can just wash them now.” 

“Do you know why we don’t wait until the end of the night to do that?” Cas asked, burning through Dean with his stare. 

“Not really,” Dean said. 

“Because you just mopped. And this might happen,” Cas said, and he dropped the basket on the floor. The floor that Dean just mopped. “Now clean it up.” 

Dean thought he might’ve blacked out for a second. Pure rage replaced the blood that ran through his veins. 

He charged forward and grabbed Cas by the front of his shirt, pulling him towards him. When Cas pushed back, though, Dean slipped on the grease and lost his footing long enough for Cas to recover from the surprise of the assault. He threw Dean against the stainless steel freezer, throwing his forearm into Dean’s throat. 

“You should show me some respect,” Cas hissed, pressing his arm down harder. Dean coughed from the weight on his throat. “I gave you this job. I can fire you.” 

For an endless moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Cas’s body was pressed up against Dean, and he could feel Cas’s breath on his face. 

“What is going on with you?” Dean gasped, pushing off the refrigerator with his foot for leverage and shoving Cas off of him. “I thought we were just messing around!”

“Oh did you?” Cas all but sneered, glaring down at Dean’s chest like was considering shoving him into the fridge again. “Because  _ I  _ thought I was weird, and you were just laughing at me!” He finished his exclamation with a hard shove. Dean’s back smacked into the fridge again. 

But Dean didn’t try to fight back, because all of the fight had drained out of him at Cas’s last words. Son of a bitch. He’d heard what Dean had said to Jo. It was bad enough that Dean had betrayed himself with the lie. It brought a lump to his throat when he realized that not only did he betray Cas by saying it, he’d been overheard.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, reaching out his hand and putting it on Cas’s shoulder. Cas looked at Dean’s hand in disbelief for a moment before he shoved it off. 

“Just get out of here,” Cas said, stepping back and out of Dean’s way. “I’ll finish here. I don’t want to look at you anymore.” 

The words were a kick to the gut, especially because Dean knew he deserved them. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t explain why he’d lied to Jo without telling Cas what Jo had implied, or why it was such a big deal if she thought that. Desperately, painfully, he wanted to tell Cas the truth. But he couldn’t do it. He was a coward. 

He grabbed his keys out of his locker in the back and walked out, leaving Cas behind. 


	4. Chapter 4

He made it to the Impala before he stopped. Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. 

He turned and strode back towards the diner, throwing open the door. The bell’s chime announced his return, stealing his element of surprise. 

“Did you forget something?” Cas asked bitterly, his voice thick. He swiped his sleeve across his eyes when Dean made it to the kitchen. 

“I lied,” Dean blurted, his eyes shining with pleas for Cas to hear him out. “I lied to Jo. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was having a lot of fun with you.” 

Cas took an involuntary step forward, like he wanted to believe what Dean was saying. A second later he caught himself, though, looking down at the floor and pretending to mop. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, almost to himself. “Why would you lie to your girlfriend about that?” 

Dean hesitated, looking out of the kitchen into the dark diner. 

“You wouldn’t,” Cas finished for him, dropping the mop into the bucket. It splashed loudly, throwing droplets of water all over the floor around it. “You just feel bad that I heard what you said and you’re trying to fix it. Well, thanks. But it’s really not necessary.”

“I like you,” Dean said quietly. Cas didn’t even hear him. He was on a tirade. 

“I get it. You’re this well-traveled, cool guy, you have a hot girlfriend, and I’m just your weird boss. You didn’t have to make fun of me but I’ll survive.”

“Cas, shut up,” Dean said, smiling. Cas’s face shot up, his jaw dropping open. 

“You didn’t get shoved into the fridge enough times before?” Cas asked, humorlessly laughing at what he thought was Dean’s audacity. 

“I said,” Dean said loudly, taking a step towards Cas. “I like you. I lied to her because she asked if she should be worried and she should be.” 

Cas tilted his head to the side, staring at Dean wordlessly. Dean swiped at a bead of sweat on the back of his neck. He hadn’t even considered whether Cas would be horrified to hear how felt. 

“I’m not gonna try to kiss you or anything,” Dean added, desperately trying to smile and make light of the situation. It felt more like a grimace. “So you don’t have to freak out. Whatever. I’m just saying I think we have fun, you know, hanging out and-” 

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” 

Dean closed his mouth.

“I like you too, Dean.” 

“Alright, then.” Dean shifted from one foot to the other, a big grin spreading across his face. Cas had one to match. 

“You can go home. I’m almost done,” Cas said, breaking the silence. 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind-” Dean started, but Cas interrupted him again. He was going to have to stop doing that. 

“Of course,” Cas said, swiping the mop over the floor. 

Dean turned away delicately, like he was afraid the situation would crack and shatter all over the floor if he wasn’t careful. He walked slowly out of the diner. As soon as the door closed behind him, he leaped off the curb and ran to the Impala, buzzing as he replayed the night in his head. Things had gotten a lot more complicated. 

___

The first thing Dean thought when he opened his eyes was “That really happened.” His heart swelled at the thought. It sank immediately after. What was he supposed to do now? He had a girlfriend. What about his dad? Somehow he figured John would be less thrilled about Dean’s confession than Cas was. 

Just thinking about Cas out there, existing, made Dean’s heart flutter. This was worth it, wasn’t it? Yeah, his dad would be disappointed. But he had to love him anyway. Didn’t he? He had to? 

“I was thinking,” John said when Dean came out of his room in a pair of flannel pajama pants. “I didn’t plan anything for this weekend. Why don’t we go to the beach? You can bring Jo. She might like that.” 

Somehow, Dean didn’t think that Jo would like that too much after he told her that he had feelings for someone else. Especially the someone else that he had just told her point blank that he didn’t care about. Especially a dude. He didn’t think chicks saw that as a compliment. The worst thing Dean could possibly do to himself would be to agree to this plan. He was sure of that. 

“Sure, Dad,” Dean said. Where did that come from? Even as he mentally kicked himself, he knew exactly where it had come from. John was always off on hunts, desperate to find out what had happened to Dean’s mom and get revenge for it. Now here he was, smiling at Dean from the kitchen table, offering to take them on a family trip to the beach? Dean didn’t get opportunities like this often. 

“Great. Now get out of here, get ready for work,” John said, dismissing Dean with a chuckle. 

Dean drove to work in silence, shutting off his music as soon as he turned the car on. This wasn’t such a big deal. He’d waited 17 years to have a relationship with a boy. What was one more week? If he told Cas, Cas would understand. He had to. One more week of being the perfect son. Then to hell with it. 

When he opened the door and the bell chimed, two heads shot up in response. Two faces lit up with smiles, just for him. His stomach clenched. Cas immediately left what he was doing and started walking from the kitchen to greet Dean, whose heart longed to meet Cas halfway. His brain, though, knew that Jo was closer, and still his girlfriend, and was preparing Dean to greet her instead. 

“Heya, Jo,” he said softly, though he tried to insert his usual enthusiasm into the expression. Jo didn’t notice. The diner wasn’t open yet, so she glanced around and then grinned at Dean conspiratorially before kissing him. He licked the faint taste of Dr. Pepper off his lips and tried not to look at Cas. He failed. 

Cas was watching him, not even bothering to hide it. He gave Dean a soft, encouraging smile that said “You can do it. She needs to know the truth.” Dean looked away.

“So,” he said to Jo, accepting it when she grabbed his hands in hers. “My dad wanted to know if you wanted to go to the beach with us this weekend. You don’t have to. Just my weirdo family. Probably won’t even be that fun. What am I saying? You don’t want to go.” He might as well have said “please don’t come” for all the effort he was making to talk her out of it. He closed his mouth. 

“Dean, don’t be stupid,” she said, squeezing his hands. “You know I would love to go.” Even though realistically he’d known that she was going to accept, his heart still sank when she did. She jumped up on her toes and looked into his eyes. “This is gonna be so much fun!” 

When she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, Dean glanced back at Cas. Cas turned away. 

Dean pulled away from Jo as casually as he could, then used all of his willpower not to break into a sprint across the diner to Cas. Instead, he strolled, adjusting the pens in his apron like he didn’t have anything on his mind. Or anyone. He found Cas in the breakroom, staring blankly at a clipboard with the work schedule for the week. 

“Heya, Cas,” he whispered, taking a step towards him. 

“Mm hmm?” Cas barely replied, keeping his eyes on the paper. 

“I meant what I said last night.” Cas’s blue eyes flashed towards him. “It’s just, my dad planned some beach trip this weekend, and I can’t just kick Jo to the curb like that.”

“I understand,” Cas sighed, tossing the clipboard on one of the storage shelves. It hit a cardboard box and fell to the ground with a clatter. Neither of them moved to pick it up. “I wouldn’t tell my father about us either.” 

“I’m going to,” Dean said, resting his hand on Cas’s shoulder. This time, Cas didn’t push it off. “But just, later. After this week. Then I’m all yours.” 

There was a heaviness in Cas’s eyes, but Dean was afraid to ask why. If Cas thought they couldn’t make it work, he didn’t want to know. If Cas was too afraid to go public, to tell his dad about them, Dean would worry about it later. Right now he wanted to revel in the way his heart swelled when Cas reached up and squeezed the hand that Dean had placed on his shoulder. 

“One week left” was a lot closer to happiness than he’d ever imagined he’d be. 

___

“Dean,” Cas said later that day, ducking his head into the kitchen where Dean was picking up plates to bring to one of his tables. 

“What’s up?” Dean replied in a casual tone, but he shot Cas a secret smile. 

“You have a table that requested you.” 

Dean laughed, following Cas out of the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked for by name, and it wouldn’t be the last. As a waiter - and actually, in general - he was pretty hard to resist. He dropped off the plates in his hands, pointing out the extra fries he’d given the girls at the table, and turned to see who Cas meant. 

His face lit up. 

“Sammy!” he called, running over to where his little brother was waiting by the host podium. Sam was standing with a girl, a pretty brunette his age. They were both wearing their soccer uniforms. Did Sammy have a girlfriend? Dean smiled evilly. “Kids menus, obviously.” He handed them the paper menus, forcing two crayons into Sam’s reluctant hand. Sam widened his eyes in horror. 

“Dean,” he hissed, dropping the crayons onto the podium. Dean coughed to cover a laugh. Thirteen year olds were too easy. 

“Alright, alright,” he said, giving in and taking the offending papers from them. He grabbed two regular menus from the podium and led them to a table. 

“Was that your manager?” the girl asked, gesturing with a nod of her head at Cas behind the bar. Just being asked about Cas was exciting. Dean broke into a smile when he followed her eyes to Cas, but brought it back to a more neutral expression. 

“Sure is,” he replied evenly. Sam was doing it again. That thing where he watched Dean like he could see through to his thoughts. 

“My big sister likes him a lot. She says they’re gonna get married.”  _ Tell her I said good luck with that _ , Dean scoffed in his head. 

“What, Dean?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised. Oh crap. His expression must’ve revealed too much. 

“Nothing. Good luck to your sis,” Dean told the girl, turning around and walking back to the kitchen. He berated himself for the slip up the whole time. 

When Dean came back from the kitchen to check on his little brother’s date, he saw that someone had already beaten him to it. Cas was leaning against their table, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Dean’s heart rose into his throat. What was going on? Cas would never say anything. Right? He wouldn’t do that. 

“Like I said, I don’t know,” Cas was saying when Dean got within earshot. “I might be busy this weekend.” 

When Dean looked at Sam, Sam’s eyes were already boring into him. Sam had a slight smile as he gestured towards Cas with his eyes. He was making his Sam Winchester, Smart Ass expression. What did he do? 

“What’s going on?” Dean breathed out, fixing his eyes on Sam. 

“I was just asking Castiel if he wanted to come to the beach with us. It might be nice to have a local show us around.” 

“Jo is a local,” Dean said automatically. Cas turned to look at him, but Dean only saw out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t know what Cas’s expression revealed, and he didn’t want to know. He felt sick. Sammy, and Dad, and Jo, and Dean, and Cas. One big happy family. His head was swimming. He took a deep breath. 

Sam put his hand out, all traces of mischief dissipated. 

“Dean, are you ok?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” he said, straightening up. There was no reason for him to be weird about this. None that anyone else could know about, anyway. “‘S a good idea. Cas, you should come.” 

“Alright,” Cas said, barely audibly. He nodded once and returned to the bar, picking up a glass and washing it in the sink.

This one week was turning out to be a little more than Dean was ready to handle. 


	5. Chapter 5

There was a knock on Dean’s bedroom door that night. He was laying in bed staring at a Hot Rod magazine.    
  


“Come on in, Sammy,” Dean called. It was obviously Sam, because their dad only gave one quick knock and then barged right in. Dean had tried telling him that wasn’t enough, but John didn’t like to take suggestions on his parenting. 

“Listen, Dean,” Sam said, standing in the doorway. He closed the door behind him when Dean waved him closer, and stood near the foot of the bed. There was nowhere to sit, because Dean’s room was sparsely decorated. They were renting the apartment by the month, and John had made it clear they were just passing through and “borrowing” these rooms. They didn’t need to decorate them or get attached. “I’m sorry about today. I just saw how you were looking at him and I wanted-”

“Don’t,” Dean said, holding up his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yes you do,” Sam said, starting quietly but raising his voice to a normal level. “It’s 1996. No one cares.”

“Yeah they do,” Dean muttered to himself, flipping a page in his magazine and pretending to inspect a red Ferrari. “Let’s not have a  _ Full House  _ moment here. I get it. You feel bad you invited my boss. Thanks.” 

“I thought you didn’t watch  _ Full House _ ,” Sam said, and Dean could hear the teasing in his voice. 

“I don’t,” Dean said with mock seriousness, looking up and pointing at Sam. 

“Seriously, Dean. You don’t have to tell Dad or anything. You could just tell me.” 

Dean pretended not to hear him. 

“Ok,” Sam said weakly. “I kept this for you. I thought it was relevant.” He walked over and dropped a little white paper onto the magazine, then left the room. Dean knew what it was before he picked it up, but he read it again anyway. It was the fortune he’d gotten from their dinner with Jo, now wrinkled from when he’d crumpled it up. 

**The only you that’s worth being is the real you.**

“Great,” Dean said to himself. “My lucky numbers are 1, 3, 5, 18, and 22.” But he tucked the little paper into the magazine and set it carefully under his bed. 

___

Saturday morning, Dean stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was wearing American flag swim trunks. He’d always thought he had a nice body, with visible abs and strong enough arms. But now he wondered if it was good enough. What if Cas was disappointed? Dean shook his head when he realized he’d never given this much thought to impressing someone before. 

He was a lot more embarrassed later in the morning, when his father walked in on him doing push ups in the living room. He’d thought John and Sam had already left for the beach. 

“Look at you, trying to impress Jo,” John laughed, slapping Dean on the back when he jumped up from his workout in horror. “I did that once or twice before a date with your mom. Really works.” 

Dean chuckled back, but it sounded a bit strained to him. John didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed a six pack and yelled for Sam to get in the car. Dean waited with bated breath, hoping and praying that no one would ask how he was getting there. He was banking on the fact that John would assume Jo was coming to get him, because “Cas is picking me up. Jo will just meet us there” didn’t sound like the answer of a guy who cared most about impressing his girlfriend. 

He breathed out heavily when they were finally gone. The doorbell rang a moment later, and Dean’s breath shortened. Cas. He was here. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said when Dean threw open the door. Cas was wearing a pair of sky blue swim trunks that made his eyes even more electric than usual. Which was fortunate, because they forced Dean to look at Cas’s eyes for at least a second before he drank in the rest of him.

The only thought Dean could form was “touch.” Cas was subtly sculpted, with muscular arms that had always been covered by his long-sleeved work shirt before now. Dean’s eyes traveled lower. From the soft little line of hair going down from his belly button to the V-line muscles of his lower abs, everything about Cas’s physique was inviting Dean to see what was under those trunks. 

Oh, crap. Now he was blushing. Was it really hot in here all of a sudden? 

“Let’s go,” Dean said quickly, grabbing his beach towel off the couch only to drop it immediately after. He bent over to pick it up, and caught Cas’s stare on the way up. He winked. “You like the view?” 

It was Cas’s turn to blush. He coughed and nodded. 

Dean took a deep breath when they climbed into Cas’s old silver Crown Vic. He’d meant for the breath to recenter him, but it had the opposite effect. Because not only was he here, in Cas’s car, sitting in the passenger seat, but the car also smelled like cologne.  _ Good  _ cologne. It smelled like hiking in the woods with just a hint of sweetness. Dean shifted in his seat. 

“So,” he said, torn between wanting to breathe through his mouth and wanting to inhale that scent as deep as he could and demand that Cas pull the car over. “You get out to the beach much?”

“Not really,” Cas said easily, turning on his blinker to make a turn. He didn’t say anything else. Dean supposed Cas didn’t need to say anything else, because he was used to this intoxicating smell and didn’t desperately need a distraction. 

Mercifully, nowhere in town was very far from the beach, and they made it there quickly. 

“You ready to meet my dad,  _ pal _ ?” Dean asked, putting as much sarcasm as the word “pal” could possibly carry. There was a bitterness in his tone, but Cas’s laugh didn’t match it. He just seemed happy to be there. 

Dean heard the slam of a car door as soon as he got out. He turned to see Jo. She was wearing a black, high cut one piece that left her hips exposed, Baywatch-style. It was sexy as hell. And Dean barely cared. He listened to her flip flops crunch on the sand and gravel of the parking lot, mustering up all of his old ladies-man charm. 

He kissed her when she got up to him, meeting her eyes after. Jo was beautiful and sweet, and he was a dick for leading her on. 

Well, he’d made up his mind to finish this day off, so there was no point in feeling bad about it. Even though he knew he’d do it anyway, he tried to resolve not to think about it. At least he had the best distraction that ever showed up in swim trunks by his side. 

Cas, Jo, and Dean headed down the beach, their steps staggering as their feet sunk into the hot, white sand. They didn’t say anything, but the sounds of lifeguards blowing their whistles, the cry of seagulls, and the shouts of kids playing on the beach kept them from noticing any awkward silence. Instead, they turned their attention to finding Sam and John in an endless sea of multicolored umbrellas. 

“That’s them, isn’t it?” Jo finally said, pointing to two figures in the distance. They stood out for their lack of equipment. While Sam and John simply sat on towels with an open beer sticking in the sand next to John, most of the other beachgoers were surrounded by coolers, boogie boards, sandcastle buckets, or at least beach chairs. Dean hoped Cas didn’t think badly of his family for their simplicity. They pushed off in that direction. 

“Hello, sir,” Cas said as soon as he approached John. He held out his hand confidently. John raised his eyebrows slightly, accepting the handshake. Those raised eyebrows gave all the indication he was probably going to get, but they were enough for Dean to realize that John was impressed with Cas’s manners. He was always saying how this new generation of kids lacked respect for authority. Dean couldn’t help but smile to myself. 

“Hello, Jo,” John said, and they exchanged polite “how are you?”’s. At John’s suggestion, the four kids headed down to the water, standing at the edge and letting the water creep over their toes. The cold was a sharp surprise, but Dean found himself getting used to it sooner than he expected. 

___

The day was going better than Dean had dared to expect. Jo wasn’t especially physically affectionate, as if she felt uncomfortable with those kinds of public displays in front of Sam or John. Dean was more than grateful for that. He kept his eyes off of Cas as much as he could without being conspicuous about it, and the group seemed to get along fine. 

Dean decided he was home free when Jo checked her waterproof watch and announced that her mom was expecting her home soon. She gave him a chaste kiss and waved to the others, heading up the beach. 

“Well,” Sam said with finality, as soon as Jo’s figure disappeared over the dune. “I’ll let you guys hang out.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean said automatically, struck by the thought of being left alone with a shirtless Cas. His fears were confirmed when he glanced over and saw the breeze rustling Cas’s hair into a messier version of its usual professional form. What was he supposed to say to an Adonis like that? Sure, they got along great at work. But this was different. This was the outside world. 

“Dean,” Cas said, raising his eyebrow. “I think we can survive without him.” He and Sam exchanged meaningful eye contact, like they understood each other. Dean didn’t like that one bit. Still, he followed Cas’s lead and gave Sam a friendly wave as Sam went off to a group of boys his age playing volleyball. “Let’s go for a walk.” 

Dean was relieved that Cas was taking the lead. He also had to admit it was kind of sexy. It reminded him of the look of fury in Cas’s eyes in the back of the kitchen, when he’d had Dean pinned up against the fridge. He could practically feel Cas’s body pressed up against his. 

“I don’t think my dad was too happy that I was coming to the beach with you today,” Cas said, in a casual tone. 

“Why?” Dean asked. It’s not like they were advertising that it was a date. Wouldn’t Cas’s dad just assume they were friends? 

“I think he can tell. About me, I mean. He doesn’t bring it up, though. He just hints about it, saying he feels sorry for my aunt that my cousin is gay. He has his suspicions, but if he doesn’t ask, I suppose he can just pretend I’m not.” 

Dean didn’t know what to say. He guessed all he could do was say that he understood. 

“Yeah, my dad knows. I don’t know if he thinks I’m faking liking girls or not, but he’s always asking about them anyway. I really do like them, though. I mean, not anymore. Now I just like you.” He laughed, then sighed. “I met this guy at the last school I actually went to, and I guess I talked about him one two many times. My dad pulled us out of school and sent me on a hunt alone.” Dean stopped. He’d almost told Cas about hunting. 

“A hunt?” Crap. He noticed. Of course he noticed. 

“Yeah,” Dean said quickly, kicking at the water at his feet as if he could punish it for his own stupidity. “We hunt. Animals. You know.” Animals? Nice job specifying that, Dean. Didn’t sound creepy at all. “Anyway, he told me this story before I left, about these two nuns that were in love with each other and they got found out. So they offed themselves. Guess he wanted me to think about it while I was gone.” 

“Wow,” Cas sighed. “Our dads would get along great.” Dean’s heart swelled with appreciation for this amazing person next to him, who actually understood him. 

He let his hand swing towards Cas’s, wishing he had the courage to grab it and hold it. But there were way too many people, too many eyes. They hadn’t walked very far, only to the next lifeguard tower, when Cas stopped and turned to stare at the ocean. Dean followed suit, standing right against Cas’s side. 

The loud conversations of the beachgoers around them, the splashing of swimmers, and the jingle of a nearby ice cream cart faded away as they stood there, watching the waves crash. Dean couldn’t believe that Cas could be anywhere, with anyone he wanted, and he wanted to stand here next to Dean. He could say anything he wanted, and Cas would listen. What did he do to deserve this kind of fortune?

It took his breath away when Cas leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder. He felt a moment of panic that people might see, but it was quickly replaced by the awe of having this beautiful person choose him. They were far enough away that the crowds would block his dad’s view of them, as long as he stayed in his spot on the sand. Dean was deadly still, like a rare butterfly had landed on him. 

“Oh, alright,” a breathy voice said. Cas jumped, and Dean whipped his head around. 

Jo was standing there, her eyes wide. There was no anger on her face. Just hurt and betrayal. 

“I just came back because I forgot to actually thank you guys for inviting me.” For a moment, no one responded.


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ll leave you two,” Cas said, breaking the silence. He continued to walk in the direction they’d been headed. Dean wanted to beg him to stay, but he could tell that wouldn’t be the best choice. 

“Why did you lie to me?” Jo asked, her voice breaking. She swallowed, and when she spoke again her voice was firm and clear. “I came right out and asked you.”

“Jo, we weren’t, at the time we weren’t-” Dean started, stepping towards Jo. She took a step back. “It wasn’t like that.” 

“But you liked him,” she stated more than asked, swiping at her nose with the back of her hand. “Why didn’t you just be with him then?”

“No one was supposed to know,” Dean said, knowing it wasn’t a good answer. He didn’t have an answer to justify his hurting and lying to her, and he knew it. “I’m not supposed to be like this, to feel this way.”

“Ok, so it was just fine to use me to keep your secret then?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Use me as a prop in your little play?” 

Dean felt sick. He tried to think of something, anything, he could say to make it better. 

“Were you just faking it the whole time then?” Her face paled, as if she’d remembered something that made it even worse. She half whispered the next words. “In the Impala? What we did? Were you just pitying me? No one knew we were doing that. Or did they? Was that part of the charade?” 

The ocean mist stung at Dean’s eyes, and he rubbed them with the back of his hand. She was right about how he’d used her. But not entirely. 

“Not at all!” he said, latching onto the one detail he could correct. “I wasn’t faking that. You were amazing.”

“Oh, that’s great,” she snapped, recoiling. “So my body was fine. It was me as a person that you didn’t like.” 

Son of a bitch. When she put it like that, it sounded even worse. Just what kind of a person was he? 

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?” he pleaded, stepping out of the way when a little girl charged past him with a plastic bucket and shovel. He envied the kid. So ignorant to the perils of dating.

“You could say you’re sorry,” she said flatly, like it was the simplest answer in the world. And she was right again. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, pain radiating in his voice. “Jo, I’m so sorry that I did that to you. I was a coward. I was a jerk.” 

“I was wrong,” Jo said. “That didn’t make it any better.” She turned on her heel and stalked off in the direction she’d come, making her way back up the beach. 

Cas must have been waiting, because he came back to Dean soon after Jo left. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he said. “That was my fault. You said you weren’t ready for us and I went and put my head on your shoulder like that anyway.” All Dean wanted was for Cas to wrap his arms around him, to hold him and tell him that he wasn’t a bad person. But that would be a lie. 

“It’s not your fault,” Dean said, turning away and walking back to where Sam and his dad were. Cas caught up, so Dean kept talking. “I knew I was lying to her. Let’s just go. I don’t really feel like being at the beach right now.” He tried not to notice the way Cas’s face fell. He was just batting a thousand today, wasn’t he? 

Sam caught up with them, wiping sweat off of his forehead. He was too busy bragging about the fact that every team he’d played on had won to notice how somber Dean and Cas had turned. Dean was glad. Not only did he not want to talk about what had happened with Jo, he was happy to see Sammy getting to act like a regular kid. 

“Well it helps that you’re a foot taller than them,” he said, shoving Sam gently. Sam laughed, pushing back. They stumbled up the sand towards John. 

“Hey, we’re gonna head back,” Dean said, waiting for John’s permission even though he’d made it seem like a statement. John gave a curt nod, returning his eyes to the ocean. Sam returned to his towel, following John’s example.

Dean led the way up the beach. He knew from the soft padding on the sand that Cas was following him, but he didn’t try to say anything. With all of his heart, he wished he could go back. Tell Jo right away that things weren’t right. But to do that, he would’ve had to be honest with himself first, and he was too late on that part too. At least he could’ve broken things off as soon as he knew how Cas felt about him. That would have been the barest, basest decency, and he couldn’t even do that. Why did Cas even like him? Why did anyone? 

The ride back to Dean’s apartment was similarly quiet. Cas made a friendly comment or two, and Dean tried to respond, but he could only come up with a curt “Yeah” or “Uh-huh.” He’d managed to screw things up with Jo in what, a month? How long could he have Cas before he ruined that too? 

“Thanks for inviting me,” Cas said, putting the car in park. There was just a hint of irony in his tone. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Hell of a first date,” he said, pushing open the car door. “Thanks for the ride.” Cas looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. So Dean headed up the sidewalk and towards the stairs, considering a million different ways he could’ve ended that conversation better than “Thanks for the ride.” 

___

As he walked up to the diner on Monday morning, Dean considered hopping back in the Impala and not stopping until he got to California. But he couldn’t just quit his job because he’d hurt a girl’s feelings. Jo was pretty scrappy, though. Maybe she’d come after him with a steak knife from the kitchen. He almost hoped she would, just so he didn’t have to keep picturing the stricken look on her face when she confronted him. 

No one turned when the bell jingled this time. Jo was taking an order at a nearby table, her back to the door. He guessed she saw him walking up to the diner through the windows and didn’t need to turn now to know who was coming in. It was a lot easier than making eye contact as soon as he walked in, but they’d have to break the ice somehow. They were still coworkers. Still, he wasn’t in a hurry to start a conversation. 

His heart swelled when a figure came out of the kitchen, hands loaded with full plates of food. There he was. Cas. Dean waited until Cas left the food at each table, smiling and asking the customers if they needed anything. Dean busied himself by pretending to straighten the menus at the host stand. As soon as Cas turned towards the kitchen, he followed, at enough of a distance that he hoped it just looked like a coincidence. He didn’t want Jo to see him chasing after Cas and feel even worse. He’d been here no more than five minutes and this was already getting ridiculous. 

“Heya, Cas,” he said, leaning into Cas’s ear when they’d made it safely into the kitchen. He caught it when Cas responded with a slight shiver. “How are ya this morning?” 

“I’m fine, Dean. Thanks for asking,” Cas said stiffly, taking a step away. Dean froze. What did he do wrong this time? Except Cas didn’t look angry. Dean knew his angry face well by now. Cas looked scared. He coughed and tilted his head in the direction of the fryer. Cas’s father was standing there, taking out a batch of fries. Dean nodded his understanding. 

Surrounded by people who couldn’t see them together. At least now Dean and Cas knew how they felt about each other, which was better than they were doing not too long ago. 

By lunchtime, Dean had figured out how to solve his Jo problem. He would simply run away any time she got near him. The best plans weren’t complicated. 

Keeping to the plan, Dean made sure he took his lunch break at a different time than hers so they wouldn’t run into each other in the breakroom. That wasn’t too hard, considering his manager who sent people on lunch break liked him a lot, and also didn’t want him hanging around his ex-girlfriend. He was eating a bacon burger he’d swiped from the kitchen when said manager walked in, holding two tall glasses topped with whipped cream and cherries. 

“I brought you a milkshake,” Cas said, handing one of the drinks to Dean and settling into one of the crappy back room chairs next to Dean. Dean accepting it, beaming. 

“This is awesome,” he said, licking the whipped cream off the top. He winked when he noticed Cas staring. “Thanks.” 

Cas nodded, pulling the cherry off of its stem with his teeth. He set the stem on the little card table behind him. 

“Sorry about earlier,” he said, gesturing to the kitchen. “I’ve been getting along better with my dad and I thought it would be better if I didn’t ruin it.” He looked down, pursing his lips. Dean checked that there was no one coming before he laid his hand on Cas’s knee. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, taking a long drink. It was chocolate. “The milkshake more than makes up for it.” Cas smiled, leaning forward to wipe a bit of whipped cream off the tip of Dean’s nose. Dean swiped at his face self-consciously. “So, boss, how long have you been working here, anyway?”

“Since I was 15,” Cas said, eyeing Dean’s cherry enviously. Dean picked it off the whipped cream and handed it to him. Cas didn’t continue his answer until he’d eaten it, leaving the stem next to the first one. “I wanted to go away for college when I graduated high school, but I can’t afford it. My dad wants me to take over the diner and he says I don’t need a degree for that, but I really want to be a lawyer. Anywhere but here. I’ve been taking classes at the community college in Atlantic County, but I’ll basically have to work here forever to afford law school. Which means I’ll be living with my dad a bit longer.” He stared down at his milkshake, sighing. 

“You want to be a lawyer?” Dean asked, collecting whipped cream on his straw and licking it off clumsily. “So does Sammy! Lawyers are the worst. Haven’t you ever heard a lawyer joke? What’s the difference between a vacuum and a lawyer on a motorcycle?”

Cas laughed, staring at Dean like he thought he was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. 

“What?” he finally said, realizing Dean wasn’t going to tell him until he asked. 

“With the vacuum, the dirtbag is on the inside.” Dean finished his joke with a giant, cheesy smile. 

Cas snorted, spitting milkshake out on the linoleum floor. Dean joined into the hysterical laughter, both of them doubled over and gasping. Cas held his stomach and breathed deeply, relaxing, but his eyes still twinkled. After a moment of apparently reveling in the moment, he looked at Dean carefully. 

“I want to do something in human rights law,” he said thoughtfully, undercutting the seriousness of his statement by following Dean’s example and licking the whipped cream off of his straw. Now  _ that  _ was the most adorable thing Dean had ever seen. “What do you want to do?”

Dean was struck by how few times he’d ever been asked a question like that. Did it matter what he wanted? He was a hunter. It was the family business. He did what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to do it. That’s how it was supposed to be. 

“I guess I’ll just, you know, work with my dad,” he said. 

“As a mechanic?” Cas asked. He took one last drink of his milkshake and set it on the table behind him. He immediately screwed up his eyes in a wince. “Brain freeze.” 

“You’re so cute,” Dean blurted. Cas widened his lake blue eyes. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Before he could think any better of it, Dean leaned towards Cas. 

“Ugh, get a room.” Dean turned to see Meg standing in the doorway, glaring at them. “Bad enough you go and cheat on Jo but now you’re gonna hook up in the breakroom?” Dean didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even kissed Cas. He would have, if he had gotten the chance, but Meg had interrupted. So just what exactly was she complaining about?

“Meg,” Cas gasped in a sharp whisper. “Please don’t say stuff like that so loud.” When Dean turned to look at him, Cas’s eyes were wide and fixed on Meg. Meg glanced behind her, apparently wondering who else was listening. She must not have seen anyone, because she only rolled her eyes and left the room. 

When she was gone, Cas was staring at the bottom of his glass, poking at the remaining whipped cream with his straw. Dean waited for him to look up, but he didn’t. So Dean got up, squeezed his shoulder, and left the room to get back to work. 


	7. Chapter 7

It seemed like the phone had been ringing for a thousand years. Dean rolled over on his bed, hoping, praying, that Cas would answer. 

“Hello?” a gruff voice answered. Crap. That wasn’t Cas. 

“Hello,” Dean answered, trying to make his voice deeper to sound more professional. He coughed. His voice was already deep. “May I speak with Castiel Novak?”

“Who’s this?” the voice, probably belonging to Mr. Mark Novak, asked. 

“This is… uh. The electric company.” Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He considered throwing his phone across the room. Why would the electric company call Cas?

“Well, this is the homeowner speaking.” 

“Are you, uh, satisfied with your… electricity?” 

“I’m sorry, what company did you say you worked for?”

Dean hung up. 

Son of a bitch! What  _ was  _ that? Cas’s dad was totally going to freak out when he put together that a boy was calling Cas and trying to keep it a secret. 

His phone rang. He considered vomiting all over the bedspread. 

“Leahy’s Electric,” he said, nodding appreciatively at his own response. That wasn’t too bad. 

“Dean?” It was Cas. Dean sighed in relief. 

“Hey, Cas,” he answered. His heart was still pounding, but now he saw that as a positive. “How did you know I called you?”

“My dad asked me why the electric company would call me and then hang up,” Cas said, and Dean couldn’t tell his emotion by his voice. 

“I’m sorry, man,” he said. “I just assumed you had your own phone. I panicked.” Cas was making gasping sounds on the other end of the phone. “Cas, are you ok?”

Dean almost had to pull the phone away from his ear when Cas broke out into loud laughter. 

“It’s really bad,” Cas wheezed. “He wasn’t happy. But the electric company?” Cas dissolved into more gasping. 

“Are you gonna be ok?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow. Was Cas hysterical? Should he be worried? “Is he, you know, dangerous?” The idea of Cas getting hurt made him sick to his stomach. Cas took a deep breath, pulling himself together. 

“No, nothing like that. I told him it was a prank call from one of my old school friends. He said to tell them to cut it out. So, for the record, cut it out. But not really.” 

“I need to talk to you as my manager,” Dean said, with mock seriousness. 

“What’s up, Dean?” Cas asked, apparently buying the charade. The teasing had faded from his voice. 

“I’m very sick,” Dean coughed theatrically. “I won’t be able to come into work today.” 

“Dean.” 

“Seriously. I have the Black Plague. In fact I bet I gave it to you. You better call in sick too.” 

“Dean, the owner of the diner lives in my house. I think he would know if I called in sick.” 

“So pull a Ferris Bueller. Oh, I got it. Go throw up loudly in the bathroom.” Dean grinned into the phone at the genius of his plan. “He can’t have you working around food if you’re hurling.” 

“I don’t have to throw up,” Cas argued, hesitantly. 

“Fake it, man! Just go bleehhhhh really loud.” 

“Blehhh.” 

“Yeah, just like that but make it believable. Pour something in the toilet so it splashes.” Dean even cringed from his own description. 

“Alright. I’ll call you back.”

Dean bounced lightly on the bed, laughing quietly in excitement. This was his best idea ever. When the phone rang, he seized it off the comforter and answered right away. 

“Dean?” Cas said in greeting. “I’m violently ill.” 

“Great!” Dean cheered, raising his fist into the air even though Cas couldn’t see it. “Let’s go play mini-golf or something. Get ready. I’m coming to pick you up.” 

___

It was only when Dean pulled up to the address that Cas had given him that he realized he didn’t know how to tell Cas he was here. He definitely couldn’t call again. 

The little white house in front of him with its fresh lawn and flower bushes was the picture of domesticity. Without giving himself permission, Dean found himself imagining living in a little house like that with Cas. 

He was getting lost in the idea of mowing the lawn and getting to know the neighbors when his eyes caught a movement in the window. A yellow curtain was swinging back in place in one of the front windows. Dean tensed. Someone had seen him. Hopefully it was Cas. 

He almost relaxed when the door swung open to reveal Cas, but there was no possible way to feel calm when Cas looked like that. He was wearing a short sleeved black button up shirt with light wash jeans. Dean had never seen Cas in jeans before, and frankly he wasn’t sure he could handle it. For a short moment, he considered getting out and opening Cas’s door for him. As soon as the thought occurred to him, he realized he didn’t want to risk Mr. Novak seeing from inside. Instead, he leaned across to the passenger seat and pushed open the door. 

“You should be careful,” Cas said as he slid into the car. “I’m extremely contagious.” 

“‘S good for the immune system,” Dean responded, leaning towards Cas involuntarily. “Works better the closer I get.” Cas smiled and looked down sheepishly. Dean thought he even saw him blush. 

“Where does a guy have to go to play some mini-golf?” he asked Cas, starting the car. He made turns where Cas directed, bragging about his mini-golf prowess. Using his best willpower, he managed to look at the road once or even twice while he drove, but his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the boy in the passenger seat. 

Here they were, pulling up to the mini-golf course for their first date. If Dean had told himself after his birthday, when he’d come back from that hunt with the two nuns, that he’d be here only months later, he would’ve called himself a liar. But here he was. 

The course was all but abandoned, since it was barely noon in the middle of the week. That suited them just fine. They collected their little clubs and golf balls, a paper to keep score, and a tiny pencil. Cas volunteered to keep score. 

“What, so you can cheat?” Dean asked, playfully shoving him. 

“I don’t have to cheat to beat you,” Cas said, with a small smile but perfectly seriously. Dean’s jaw dropped. That was excellent trash talk, and it didn’t even sound intentional. 

They found the first hole, and neither one made it in on the first hit. It actually took Dean three strokes, but he still put on his best Caddyshack reference voice and shouted, “It’s in the hole!” Cas shook his head light-heartedly, picking up his ball and moving to the next hole. Dean wondered why he didn’t brag that it had only taken him two strokes instead of three. Maybe he was saving it. 

They made it past a few holes before Cas turned to Dean with a concerned expression. He was beating Dean by one or two strokes per hole, and it was adding up. 

“Does it hurt?” Cas asked, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“What?”

“Losing so badly. Do you want me to go easy on you?” 

For the second time that day, Dean’s jaw dropped. When Cas couldn’t stifle a laugh, Dean lunged. He pushed Cas against the little pink windmill they’d hit their golf balls towards, grinning mischievously. 

“It sounds like,” Dean said slowly, in the seductive voice he usually reserved for the back of the Impala. “I’m not doing a good enough job distracting you, if you’re playing so well.” 

Cas swallowed, his eyes wide. They were well hidden by a few tall bushes obscuring the hole they were playing, so Dean took his time staring into the endless blue of Cas’s eyes. Cas tried to laugh, but it came out weakly. He glanced down at Dean’s lips. 

Before he could second guess himself, Dean leaned forward and slowly pressed his lips against Cas’s. Cas responded immediately, closing his lips around Dean’s. Dean felt like his heart exploded. He reluctantly pulled away, staring at Cas. 

“Let’s keep playing,” Dean whispered, turning away so Cas couldn’t see his goofy smile. 

For the last four holes, they might as well have been playing with their eyes closed. They were both racking up about five strokes per hole. Dean didn’t know about Cas, but for him it was simple. He had other things on his mind. He’d always love mini-golf, but he wanted to play different kinds of games right then. 

They turned in their equipment and counted the score, laughing at themselves as they did. Cas won, but it was practically by default. They’d both done awful. 

“Do you want to get ice cream?” Dean asked, desperate to keep Cas with him. If ice cream wasn’t an option, they could go eat something else. Or go for a walk. Or join the damn circus. He didn’t care, as long as he didn’t have to say goodbye. 

Fortunately, Cas must’ve felt similarly, because he agreed right away. 

They found a little ice cream shack near the golf course and got in line behind a small family. 

“I’m gonna get sprinkles,” Dean said, dreaming about his ice cream. 

“Jimmies.” 

“What?”

“People back here call them jimmies. If you want sprinkles, you have to ask for jimmies.” Cas said this with authority, like Dean would utterly humiliate himself if he walked up and asked for “sprinkles.” 

So when they got up to the counter, Dean asked for a vanilla cone with “jimmies.” The girl at the counter stared at him. 

“I’m sorry, you wanted what?” 

“A vanilla cone with jimmies,” Dean said louder, looking at Cas proudly. He’d mastered the lingo. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what that is,” the girl said, wiping her forehead with a gloved hand. 

Dean was going to kill Cas. He was going to tear him apart. Cas didn’t help his case by bursting into laughter. 

“He wants sprinkles,” he choked out. The girl nodded, still watching Dean warily like she thought he might bark at her or something. As soon as she gave them their ice cream, Dean grabbed Cas’s wrist and led him away to a sidewalk bench. 

“Dude!” he yelled, gesturing to the shack. “You set me up!” He laughed in disbelief. Cas laughed just because he thought it was hilarious. 

“It’s true that people have called them ‘jimmies’ before,” he said, nodding with authority. “I’ve never heard it in real life though. My dad told me about it.” Dean relaxed. 

“Oh, so you thought she’d know what I meant.” 

“No, not at all. I knew she’d think you were crazy. I’m just saying, I didn’t invent ‘jimmies.’” Cas tried to lick his ice cream, but he had to stop to laugh again. Despite his best efforts, Dean had to laugh too. He also had to push his ice cream into Cas’s nose. Cas gasped. “Dean!”

“That’s a good look on you,” Dean smirked, licking his ice cream triumphantly. 

They sat on the bench, and Dean scooted over until his leg was right against Cas. 

“So, Ferris Bueller,” he said, with a mouth full of ice cream and sprinkles, “Where is your dad all day today, that you know he’s not gonna check on you or something?”

Cas paled. Dean raised his eyebrows. 

“You did make sure he’s not gonna check on you, didn’t you?” 

“I’ve never seen Ferris Bueller,” Cas said quietly. “You just said to fake throwing up, you didn’t say anything else.” 

“Well, son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, but his lips were turning in the corners like he was trying not to laugh. “Let’s get you home.” They jumped off the bench and ran for the Impala. Dean turned the key in the ignition.

“Wait,” Cas said, leaning towards Dean. “If I don’t do this now I might not get a chance later.” He cupped Dean’s face in his hand and kissed him, softly at first but with increasing passion. Dean opened his mouth, letting his tongue mingle with Cas’s. When Cas pulled back, he wanted to beg him to come back and kiss him again. But if he waited until he was done kissing Cas, they’d never get out of this parking lot. 

Dean went through a few questionable yellow lights that were probably more likely red, but he made it to Cas’s in pretty good time so he figured it was worth it. 

“Do I just… go up to the front door?” Cas asked, glancing nervously at the house. Dean chuckled at the assumption that he was the expert on breaking rules. It wasn’t that far off. 

“Yeah,” he said in a deadpan. “Go in and say ‘Hey, Dad, I’m back from my date!’” Cas rolled his eyes. 

“Then what exactly am I supposed to do?”

Dean pointed to the window with the yellow curtain. The house was one-story, so it would hardly be the most challenging break-in. 

“Is the window locked?” he asked. “Do you need me to bust it open with a credit card? It’s a pretty cool trick.” Dean grinned, but Cas was apparently too busy building a game plan to notice Dean’s offer. 

“It’s unlocked,” he said simply. He turned from the window and gave Dean a quick kiss, then climbed out of the car. Dean’s heart fluttered. 

Cas moved up the lawn in a half-jog, half-crouch that made Dean laugh out loud. He pushed the window carefully, then lifted himself over the window sill and fell into the room head first. Dean thought he might actually burst a blood vessel from laughing so hard. He waited until Cas stood up and gave him a thumbs-up, then he sped away. 

As soon as he left, he missed Cas like crazy. 


	8. Chapter 8

“Where’ve you been?” John asked conversationally as soon as Dean walked through the door. He was sitting at the little dining room table, cleaning a rifle. 

“Uh, nowhere really. Just hanging out with Cas…. tiel.” Dean surveyed the rifle on the table, slightly wrinkling his nose at the smell of the gun cleaner. 

“What happened to Jo? Been seeing her much lately?” John asked casually.

“No, sir. Not really. Things didn’t really turn out so great.” Dean gave a weak laugh. John shrugged. 

“Well, yeah, you don’t usually keep the same girl around for long.” He smiled, scrubbing the inside of the rifle barrel with a bore brush. “Anyway, you won’t see me around for a bit. I’m leaving tonight for Alabama. There’s a cemetery up there with a lot of ghost activity from the spirits of murdered slaves.”

His father had barely started his explanation when Dean realized that for once he could use John’s constant traveling to his advantage. He tried not to seem enthusiastic. 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“Give me a few days. The drive will be the longest part. The job’s a milk run. And Dean? Take care of your brother.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

___

Dean was riding the high of the conversation he would soon get to have with Cas when he got to the diner. As soon as he walked in, though, his eyes fell on Cas and Meg across the diner. They were standing just outside the kitchen, by the door that led to the back patio. Dean got as close as he could without being obvious, pretending to look at one of the orders hanging on the kitchen window. 

When he surreptitiously glanced over, he saw Cas glaring at Meg, his arms crossed. Meg was looking down dismissively.

“This is very simple,” Cas said, a hardness in his voice. “They tell you what they want, you write it down, you give it to the kitchen, you put it on their check. I don’t understand why you keep making these mistakes.”

“Whatever,” Meg said, and if Dean didn’t know any better he might have thought he heard her voice break. “It was an accident.”

“Well Mrs. Peters doesn’t care that it’s an accident. She’s all up in arms that she got overcharged. She said next time she’s gonna speak to the owner. So don’t let there be a next time.” With that, Cas pushed open the door and went out to the outdoor patio. Dean jogged after him, catching Meg’s eye long enough for her to glare at him. 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean said softly, hoping he wasn’t walking right into the line of fire. Cas rubbed his forehead. 

“That was mean, wasn’t it?” he sighed. Dean didn’t know what to say. He wanted to be supportive, especially because Cas was clearly upset. 

“Yeah, that was pretty harsh,” he said. Well, at least he was honest. “Why did you act like that?” 

Cas groaned.

“My dad is not above firing me,” he said. “He says if I’m not a tough manager he’ll find someone who is. Then I wouldn’t be able to pay rent.” Dean raised his eyebrows at the fact that Cas had to pay rent to his own father, but he didn’t ask. 

“Well he’s a dick,” Dean said simply, putting his hand on Cas’s shoulder. “But you know that’s not Meg’s fault.” 

Cas closed his eyes and nodded, taking a deep breath. When he went back inside, Dean knew it was to go apologize to Meg. At least now he knew why Jo had called Cas “The Dictator.” But he’d been wrong about one thing. It definitely didn’t make him like Cas any less. 

He gave Cas some time to talk to Meg, but after that he couldn’t resist finding him and telling him the news. Cas was at the bar filling a glass of orange juice when Dean found him. 

“Cas,” Dean said, excitement making his voice sound breathier. “What are you doing this week?” Cas raised an eyebrow and raised the glass slightly. 

“This.” 

“You should come over. After work on Thursday. Sammy has soccer practice and my dad won’t be home.” He wiggled his eyebrows on the last words. 

“Of course,” Cas said, a smile breaking over his features. He left to deliver the drink to a table, so Dean just watched him. Thursday couldn’t possibly come fast enough. 

____

Dean didn’t know how long he’d been pacing around the living room. He’d sent Sam off to soccer with a friend, and had already finished doing the dishes from the dinner he’d made for them. Sam was spending the night at his friend’s house, and John probably wouldn’t be back until tomorrow or the next day. That meant he could have Cas over as long as he wanted. They could do whatever they wanted. He took a deep breath. 

He was making a lap around the couch when the doorbell rang. His heart jumped. It was time. 

Cas held out a liter of root beer when Dean opened the door, and he was balancing a large pizza on his arm. 

“Cutest pizza boy I’ve ever seen,” Dean said, leaning in to give Cas a quick kiss. The kiss turned out to be less quick than he’d thought. In fact, they only stopped because Cas lost his hold on the pizza and almost dropped it. 

Dean was starting to get nervous as he led Cas to the kitchen. Maybe he’d gone too far. Was he acting like a chick? 

Cas gasped when he saw the living room. The floor was covered with sleeping bags, pillows, and blankets. There were bowls of candy and pretzels on the fireplace. Dean set the root beer on the kitchen table and jogged over to the CD player he’d set up by the snacks. He hit “play” and “Can’t Stop Loving You” by Van Halen started playing. 

“Is it too much?” Dean asked, running his hand through his hair. 

Cas grabbed Dean’s face in both of his hands and kissed him, hard. 

“It’s amazing, Dean,” he said. He looked at the TV. “Are we watching something?”

“Obviously,” Dean said, holding up a VHS tape. “ _ Ferris Bueller’s Day Off _ . We gotta improve your sick day skills.” 

They filled paper plates with pizza and plastic cups with root beer and sat down on the sleeping bags. Dean turned off the CD player and put in the movie. 

_ It is a beautiful day in Chicago. Temperatures in the upper 70’s… _

By the time the movie was over, Dean had his head in Cas’s lap and Cas was petting his hair. Dean closed his eyes. If he got ganked by a werewolf or something tomorrow, that would be fine. This moment was everything he’d ever need. 

When the end credits finished, the new quiet in the room changed everything. 

“So…” Cas said, watching Dean sit up. “What now?” Dean grinned. This was the part of a date he knew best. 

“You want to see my room?” he asked, not bothering to keep his expression casual. He stared into Cas’s eyes and winked. Cas cleared his throat and gestured for Dean to lead the way. 

Dean was almost at the doorway of his room before he had a flashback to his conversation with his dad before he left for Alabama. 

_ Well, yeah, you don’t usually keep the same girl around for long.  _

John was right. And why would he? He got what he wanted from them. Cas furrowed his eyebrows when he saw that Dean was just standing there. 

“I’m really turning into a chick,” Dean said. He paused, trying to find a way to say what he was thinking without sounding like a total girl. “Do you mind if we took things slow? I just really like you, and I know it sounds dumb. Like, coming from me? But I just thought-” Cas cut off Dean’s words with a kiss. 

“We can do whatever you want,” he said, grabbing Dean’s hand. 

They walked into the room, and Cas surveyed it like there would be a test later. Dean’s heart swelled when he realized it was because Cas wanted to know about him as much as he wanted to know about Cas. Cas picked a lone magazine off of Dean’s bare dresser and sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, flipping through it. Dean shook his head. Cas didn’t seem nervous at all. 

That was impressive, because Dean felt like a swarm of bees had taken up residence in his stomach. Was this what it felt like to date someone you really cared about? He wasn’t sure he liked it. But hell, he was still Dean Winchester. He took a deep breath and went over to sit on the bed next to Cas. After a second of hesitation, he laid his head on Cas’s shoulder. Cas put his hand up and ran his hand over Dean’s hair. 

Cas turned a few more pages before he turned his head towards Dean’s. Dean picked his head up in response, and he met Cas’s eyes. Dean wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but he was just thrilled they were kissing again. 

Dean felt it through his entire body when Cas lightly nibbled on his bottom lip. He grabbed a handful of Cas’s hair, pushing his tongue into Cas’s mouth. Cas put his hand on Dean’s chest and pushed him on his back, crawling on top of him. 

Dean gasped when Cas sucked on his neck, just below his ear. He turned his head involuntarily, giving Cas better access to his neck. 

He was serious about taking it slow. He was. But if he didn’t feel Cas’s skin on his, he was going to die. The oxygen would stop flowing to his lungs and he would suffocate right there. He reached for the bottom of Cas’s shirt, tugging on it slowly to gauge Cas’s reaction. Cas’s grin in response was predatory. It was an expression Dean never imagined seeing on Cas’s face. It drove him crazy. 

Cas pulled off his shirt, and Dean reached out to trace the faint line of Cas’s hip bones. Cas grinded against Dean in response. 

“Take off your shirt,” Cas whispered, sliding his hands under Dean’s shirt. Dean complied. Cas’s skin was soft on Dean’s when he laid on top of him, capturing Dean’s lips in his. 

Dean flipped Cas over, crawling on top of him and trailing kisses down his abs. He heard a knocking sound. Did Cas hit his head on the headboard? 

But then he heard a voice from the doorway. 

“Dean Winchester.” John’s voice was cut with steel. Dean’s stomach dropped. 


	9. Chapter 9

Dean rolled off of Cas, panic choking him as he searched the bedspread frantically for his shirt. He couldn’t find it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Cas leaned off the bed. When he came back up, he shoved Dean’s shirt at him. 

“I thought you were in Alabama,” Dean laughed nervously, putting his arm through the neckhole of his shirt. He tore it off in frustration. 

“Castiel, it’s time for you to go home now,” John said. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. 

“Yes, sir,” Cas muttered, still holding his shirt in his hand. He ducked past John, leaving Dean alone with his father. 

Dean really didn’t want to be alone with his father right now. 

With horror, Dean felt his eyes sting. He swallowed. Tears were the absolute last thing he needed right now. He sat stone still on the bed, waiting for John to do something. He didn’t. He just stared at Dean like he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, swallowing thickly. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.” 

John opened his mouth like he was finally going to speak. Instead, he shook his head and waved his hand as if dismissing whatever it was he was planning to say. He turned and left the room. 

“Dad!” Dean gasped. He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. 

Anything John could’ve done would be better than this. Dean wished he’d say he was disappointed, yell, even hit him. At least then Dean would know that he cared. Anything but turning his back on him. 

He’d spent his whole life trying to live up to his father’s expectations, to be the son that his father wanted him to be. It had taken one night for him to destroy it. 

Dean laid on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. A tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. 

___

Dean must have fallen asleep, because rays of sunlight were streaming through the slats in the blinds when he opened his eyes. For a moment, all he remembered from the night before was the way it felt to have Cas on top of him. A second later, though, the rest of the memories came crashing down on him. He felt sick to his stomach. 

There was no way he was going downstairs. He would just have to live here in his room for the rest of his life. 

He made it an hour or so before he couldn’t stand to listen to the sound of his stomach growling anymore, so he just got up. Might as well get it over with. Besides, he had to work today. 

It was a small comfort to him to see Sammy at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes and reading the newspaper. Dean was less excited to see John in a chair next to Sam. He held his breath, desperately longing for John to acknowledge him. Apparently that was a good way to suffocate. He grabbed a bowl and poured himself some cereal, taking bites even though he couldn’t taste it. 

“Whoa, Dean,” Sam said, his eyes widened with triumph. “Is that a hickey?” He laughed, thrilled that he had something to make fun of Dean for first thing in the morning. 

Dean’s stomach dropped. His eyes shot over to John to judge his reaction. John glanced at Sam, picked up a page of the newspaper, and took it into the other room. Sam’s face fell. He looked at John’s retreating back and then at Dean. 

“What’s going on?” he whispered. 

“Mind your business, Sam,” Dean snapped, taking a big bite of cereal so he didn’t have to say anything else. Sam gave Dean his “Talk to me” puppy dog eyes, but he apparently thought better of asking again because he looked down at his newspaper silently after. 

Dean managed to choke down the rest of his breakfast, pretending Sam wasn’t there, but then he bolted to his room to get ready for work. 

“Alright, I’m leaving!” he shouted when he got to the front door, loud enough that John would have to hear him. “Bye!” 

He got a “goodbye” from Sammy, but John was silent. Then again, John might’ve ignored him on any normal day. No sense making a big deal out of it. 

Dean did his best to put John out of his mind on the ride to work. When the image of John’s disappointed face flashed into his mind, he pushed it away and reminded himself that he was on his way to see Cas. He checked out his neck in the rearview mirror. There wasn’t much he could do to cover the hickey that would still be in line with the diner’s dress code. Oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d shown one off. 

He didn’t see Cas when he walked in, so he just grabbed a towel and started wiping down tables. When he caught a flash of brown hair through the kitchen window, his heart rate took off. For a terrifying moment he’d thought maybe Cas wasn’t working today. He tried to focus on cleaning, but he gave up completely when he saw Cas coming out of the kitchen. He tossed the towel on a table. 

Cas had something in his hands. A piece of pie. Dean loved pie. Was there more of that? 

“Here,” Cas said when they reached each other. He held out the pie. It was Dutch apple, and Dean thought maybe things weren’t so bad in his life after all. “I got this for you as a, ‘sorry your dad walked in on us half-naked on top of each other’ gift. I hope you like pie.” Dean grinned. Cas was an angel. 

“Thank you, angel,” Dean said. He liked the sound of it. It got even better when Cas blushed. 

“I’m no angel,” he said. Dean was about to argue with that when Cas continued with a playful smile. “If you even knew the things I wanted to do to you before your dad walked in…” 

Dean swallowed. He thought maybe he could imagine some things Cas might have had in mind. Cas’s eyes fell on Dean’s neck. He smiled and narrowed his eyes.

“Sorry about that,” he said, with a raised eyebrow and a tone that suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. “Looks like I marked you as mine.” Dean’s jaw dropped. Cas pointed to a table. “Eat your pie.”

Dean thought he might be in love. 

Cas sat at the table across from Dean, just watching him eat. It killed him to give up a bite, but Dean broke off a piece with his fork and held it out to Cas. Cas shook his head, but Dean waved the fork at him insistently so he took it and ate the bite. 

“Excuse me, are you on the clock?” an authoritative female voice said. Dean and Cas turned to look at her. She was probably only a couple years older than Cas, but she gave the impression of being older. Her reddish brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and she was wearing the white shirt and khakis of a diner employee. 

“No, he is not,” Cas said, with confidence to match this new adversary. His seriousness was kind of scary. “He’s on a break. So am I. Anyway, I’m his manager.” He cleared his throat. Dean tried not to smile at the inappropriately possessive way Cas had said it. “I’m  _ the  _ manager.” 

“So he was cleaning tables off the clock?” the girl asked with a hint of sarcasm. Dean set his fork on the table and stood up. 

“I better go,” he said. If this chick was trying to make a big deal out of it then he’d just go back to work. He should have been working anyway. 

“Sit down, Dean,” Cas ordered, not taking his narrowed eyes off this new girl. Dean sat down and shut up. This was some kind of alley-cat fight. “Who are you? 

“My name is Naomi. I work here now.”

“As a manager?”

“No,” she said quietly, revealing a small crack in her poise. 

“Then I’m your boss. Get to work and leave us alone.” Dean choked on a bite of pie laughing. He slammed his fist into his chest, still laughing as he coughed. 

Naomi’s eyes widened and she screwed up her lips like she wanted to scream, but she walked away. Dean lifted another bite of pie to his lips, but he had to stop because he started laughing again. 

“That was amazing,” Dean said. “But aren’t you worried about getting fired?”

“What can she do? Tell my dad? I doubt it. Speaking of fathers, what happened with yours? Do you think he’ll kick you out?” 

Dean shook his head. 

“No, I don’t think he would do that. He may be upset but he’s not just gonna tell me to beat it.” Cas nodded solemnly. “Would yours? Kick you out, I mean? If he knew?”

“He’s threatened it for less,” Cas said, looking down at the table. He shrugged, eyes still down. “I’m an adult. He’s not obligated to let me live in his house.” Cas shook his head, looking at Dean with a smile that looked like it took effort. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. He gives me a break on rent and if I had to move out I couldn’t save up for school.”

“He won’t find out,” Dean promised. 

___

Naomi had barely been at the diner for a week before everyone else was talking about her. Cas, Dean, and Meg were closing together one night, and Naomi was all that they could talk about. 

“The other day she came up to me and told me that I was putting in the orders wrong!” Meg complained loudly, standing in the kitchen and watching Cas and Dean clean the counters. 

“Were you putting in the orders wrong?” Cas asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“That’s not the point, Castiel. The point is, who does she think she is? She’s even bossier than you!”

Dean snorted. 

“Great, thanks Meg,” Cas said, laughing in spite of himself. 

“I’d watch my back if I were you,” Meg said, picking up a bottle of glass cleaner like she might make herself useful, then shrugging and putting it back down. Dean’s head snapped up. He’d mostly been listening to Cas and Meg bicker, but he didn’t like the idea of Cas having to be careful of anything. 

“Why?” he asked quickly. 

“Because she’s gunning for the job of The Dictator. And I don’t think she likes your boy very much.” Dean’s heart pounded when she called Cas “your boy.” She addressed her next comment towards Cas. “She’s always got a bitch face on when she looks at you.” 

Dean ground his teeth. He tightened his grip on the sponge in his hand. The diner practically belonged to Cas, didn’t it? So it wasn’t like this bitch could do anything. But he didn’t like this anyway. 

They were still mopping when Cas told Meg she could go home for the night. Dean personally would’ve liked it better if Cas had sent her home two hours ago, but he could understand why that wouldn’t have worked. Besides, at least now he knew to keep an eye on this Naomi chick. 

“You working tomorrow?” Dean asked, tossing his mop into the bucket. Cas shook his head. “Good, because I don’t want you to have to throw up again to get out of it. Do you want to go to the beach? Just the two of us this time.” 

Cas’s eyes lit up. 

“Of course,” he answered. 


	10. Chapter 10

Dean was just pulling on his swim trunks the next day when there was a soft knock on his bedroom door. 

“Come in, Sammy,” he said when he was dressed. Sam came into the room and pushed the door shut behind him. Dean sat back on his bed. Sammy’s facial expression screamed “Chick Flick Moment.” 

“Did something happen between you and Dad?” Sam asked, running his fingers through his hair. 

Dean supposed it was pretty obvious there was something going on by now. When he’d come in from work late last night, Sam and John had still been up, watching a movie on cable. John got up and went to bed as soon as Dean came in. Dean had tried to keep a neutral expression for Sam’s sake, but Sam was too smart for that. Especially because John had been acting this way for a week now. 

“Alright. I’ll give you the Cliff Notes version and then we’re done with this. I was with someone that night that Dad came back from his hunt. Dad walked in on us. He’s freezing me out now.” 

Sam’s eyes widened, but he forced his expression into one that was more casual. Dean had already seen his shock, but he had to appreciate the effort Sammy was making anyway. 

“Were you with Cas?” Sam asked, and Dean could tell he was treading lightly, hoping Dean would give him a straight answer. Poor kid was so desperate to be kept in the loop.

Dean looked at his lap, pretending to adjust the drawstring on his bathing suit. 

“Yeah,” he said, keeping his eyes down. 

“That’s great, Dean,” Sam said earnestly. “Dad’s a jerk. And a dinosaur. He thinks he’s still living in the 1960’s. Don’t worry about him.”

“Well, thanks,” Dean said awkwardly. He stood up. “Okay get out of here. I’m going to the beach.” He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder for a moment as he walked by. 

“With Cas?” Sam asked as Dean left. Dean didn’t bother to turn around. 

“Don’t push your luck, kid,” he said. 

___

The beach was full when Cas and Dean trudged over the dune. This time Cas had grabbed a pair of beach chairs for them, but as soon as he found a decent spot on the sand Dean took them and tossed them on the ground. 

“Let’s go swim in the ocean!” he said, grabbing Cas’s hand and pulling him down the beach like a dog on a leash. 

“Wait, Dean,” Cas protested, but Dean was determined. He kept going until their knees were in the water, then he let Cas go. 

Dean took a running leap and dove under a wave. He rubbed the burning water out of his eyes when he came up. Crap, that was really cold. Cas was still standing in the same spot, watching Dean. Dean waved for him to follow, but he shook his head. 

“I’m getting used to it first,” he said. Dean swam back over to him. 

“I can help with that,” Dean said. Cas held up his hands like he knew exactly what Dean had in mind, but it was useless. Dean heaved waves of water at Cas, splashing him all over. For a second, Cas just stood there and took it, wiping the water off his face. Just when Dean thought he was safe, though, Cas nodded to himself like he’d come to a decision. 

Right then, he dove at Dean, barreling into him and tackling him into the water. Dean had raised his arms in defense, so he wrapped them around Cas as they sank under the waves. His arms were still around Cas when they popped up. Cas’s soaking hair was pressed to his forehead, and water was sticking to his eyelashes. Dean had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He wanted to kiss Cas breathless, to taste the ocean on his lips. 

Instead, he let his arms fall. He jumped when he heard a whistle blowing. His first thought, as ridiculous as it was, was that they were in trouble for being so close. That someone had seen them who wasn’t supposed to. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. 

The whistle was coming from the lifeguard tower. The lifeguard was motioning for them to come back inside the colored flags that indicated the areas where it was safe to swim. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“I can kill a werewolf but I’ll die if I go outside the lifeguard’s zone,” he muttered. 

“You can do what?” Cas said quietly, shaking his earlobe to get water out of his ear like he thought the water might be the reason he heard Dean say “werewolf.”

Dean sighed. He’d never told anyone about hunting before, but this was Cas. Maybe being in a relationship meant taking the chance that once the other person really knew you, they wouldn’t want you anymore. 

“I can kill a werewolf. Monsters are real,” he said, tensing as he waited for Cas’s reaction. 

“I thought so,” Cas replied, shaking out the other ear like nothing had changed. 

“You what?” Dean gasped. 

“Back in Utah I saw a ghost. She was a little girl with a pink dress. My dad told me to stop making up stories when I told him. But I knew what I saw. I don’t imagine things. So it seems reasonable that other things would exist too.” 

Dean didn’t know what to do. When he’d imagined finally confessing to Cas, he’d thought they’d have to spend a few days just breaking down the “monsters exist” part. 

“Well,” he said, still weirded out beyond belief, “My dad, Sammy, and I, we, uh, hunt monsters. We find them and kill them. I’ve been traveling around my whole life doing it. We’re trying to find the thing that killed my mom.” 

Cas nodded, absorbing the information. He looked up suddenly, though, narrowing his eyes. Ok, here it was. He was finally going to freak out. Dean waited. 

“Wait,” Cas said. “You lied to me.” 

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Lying had always been a staple of the hunter lifestyle, but he couldn’t remember lying to Cas about it. 

“You told me you’d worked at a restaurant before,” Cas said, like he’d really caught Dean. Dean nodded as seriously as he could, but finally he couldn’t help but laugh. Cas’s serious expression cracked and his lips turned up, but he tried not to give in to the laughter. “Dean, you made me hire someone who wasn’t qualified!” 

Dean tried to regain a straight face, but he couldn’t do it. After a second, neither could Cas. Dean had never imagined a confession like this being funny, but he was beyond relieved that it was. 

When they got tired of swimming and a new breeze started to make the water feel too cold again, they trudged up the beach and settled into their chairs. Cas told Dean about how his mother had left when he was seven, telling Cas that she had questions she needed to answer but she’d come back. She never did. Dean told Cas about John’s longest trips when he was a kid, when he left Sam and Dean alone in hotel rooms. Once or twice they’d run out of money and Dean had had to steal for their dinner. 

Just when Dean was starting to feel down, though, Cas told him about the time he’d tried to bake a cake for Father’s Day when he was a kid. 

“It was basically 90% eggs,” he said with a grin. “I must have misread the recipe horribly. I realized when I tasted it, but I pretended I didn’t know so he’d have to eat it too. He pretended he liked it. It was really nice, actually.” 

Dean told Cas about the time he put superglue in Sam’s toothpaste. He held up his fingers, counting back time. 

“Hell, that was like six months ago,” he laughed. “Nah, I’m kidding. He was 10. I’m much more mature now.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” Cas joked with a raised eyebrow. Dean shoved Cas’s arm in response. 

As most of the other beachgoers packed up their equipment and left, Cas and Dean didn’t even notice the time passed. They talked for hours, pushing their feet in the sand and listening to the waves. Eventually the sun set, and they watched the cotton candy clouds turn the ocean pastel shades of blue and pink. Dean felt like he was in a dream. Not one of his normal dreams. There were no monsters, no traveling. It was one of those dreams where you wake up more fulfilled, like in the night you’d regained a part of yourself that you didn’t even know was missing. 

He leaned over to kiss Cas. The meeting of their lips felt like coming home. It had been a long time since Dean had had a real home. 

They didn’t even stand up when it got dark and it was easier to hear the ocean than to see it. It was only once cold drops of rain started to fall on them, flattening little dots into the sand, that they picked up their chairs and headed back up the dunes to the car. 

___

As a few weeks passed, Cas was Dean’s every thought. When they were together, he couldn’t believe his luck. They played carnival games on the boardwalk, went to the arcade, and walked down the beach in the dark. And they  _ kissed.  _ They kissed so often that when Cas’s lips weren’t on his, Dean felt like something was wrong. Every time they were alone, from the photo booth in the arcade to the back of the movie theater, their tongues were intertwined. 

When they weren’t together, Dean was counting down the minutes until they would be. Cas was just  _ right  _ for him. He even understood how important Sammy was to Dean, and a lot of the time he invited Sam to hang out with them. 

John had gotten a little better towards Dean, but whenever he overheard Sam and Dean talking about Cas, he still left the room. Otherwise, though, John seemed like he just wanted to leave the whole thing behind him. The first time he’d talked to Dean after that night, a week later, he’d acted like he hadn’t been deliberately ignoring his son for a week. 

“Dean, I’m picking up Chinese. The usual?” he’d asked, glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye like he couldn’t look right at him or he’d turn to stone. Dean had scoffed. 

“What? You’re talking to me again?” he’d demanded. John had fixed him with a stern look that made him think twice about talking back. 

“Watch your tone with me,” John had said, grabbing his keys and leaving for the restaurant. 

After that, Dean had decided to just accept John’s terms. It was better than feeling like his own father couldn’t stand him. 

Today Dean was filling napkin holders during a lull at the diner when they didn’t have many customers. Cas would be coming in soon, but for now they had Mr. Novak managing. Dean wished he could tell Mr. Novak what an amazing person his son was, how Cas made him think that maybe he deserved to be happy. He wished he could tell him how much he loved Cas. Wait. Liked. He liked Cas a lot. 

Fine. He loved him. But he wasn’t about to go around saying it this early like some kind of psycho in a chick movie. Like he’d been summoned by Dean’s internal confession, Cas came through the door. One of these days seeing Cas would have to stop taking Dean’s breath away, but today wasn't that day. 

“Heya, angel,” Dean said when Cas came over to him. Cas’s eyes widened in an expression Dean didn’t understand. So he just kept talking. “You look hot today. As usual.” 

“Well, that figures,” Naomi said from behind Dean. Oh crap. He hadn’t even heard her walk up. His hunter instincts were going soft. “Now I know why you’re the manager’s favorite.” 

“He wouldn’t have to do much to be more likable than you,” Cas responded, before Dean could say anything. Well it looked like Cas had this one handled, once again. 

“I’m sure he does  _ plenty _ ,” Naomi said, raising her eyebrow. Dean opened his mouth to retort, but she walked away before he could think of something equally clever. Damn it. 

“I really can’t stand her,” Cas hissed, his eyes narrowed. 

“So fire her,” Dean said, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were really talking privately this time. 

“I can’t do that. She might complain to my dad about me playing favorites.” His solemn look was replaced by an adoring smile as he looked at Dean. “And I am playing favorites. Obviously. Get back to work, Favorite.” 

Dean grinned, getting back to the napkins even though it was nearly impossible to tear his eyes away from Cas. 

Besides the occasional flirty comment as they passed each other on their way to tables, Cas and Dean didn’t get a chance to talk again until lunch. Even though he saw Cas all day, he spent the whole time looking forward to actually getting to sit and eat with him. Cas was trying to break Dean of his habit of stealing burgers from the kitchen everyday. Not because he expected Dean to get caught, but just because it wasn’t healthy to eat like that everyday. 

Cas held out his daily offering for Dean. Today it was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a brown paper bag. 

“You don’t have to keep making me lunch every day we work together,” Dean protested, but he took it. It was nice to have someone else take care of  _ him _ for a change. Besides, Cas always seemed so excited to give it to him. 

“You didn’t take out your napkin,” Cas said, gesturing to the bag. 

“You that sure I’m gonna make a mess?” Dean reached into the bag and pulled out the napkin anyway. There was a drawing with two little figures holding “L” shaped sticks with a windmill behind them. It was signed “your angel” in Cas’s small print in the corner. 

“That’s us at playing mini-golf,” Cas said, pointing. “Right before you asked the girl at the ice cream place for ‘jimmies.’” Dean shoved Cas playfully, but he was really touched. 

“Thank you, angel,” he said, folding the napkin and carefully setting it into his pocket. 

“My dad walked in when I was drawing it but fortunately he didn’t pay attention. Otherwise I’d have had some serious explaining to do.” 

He should’ve been used to it by now, but it still made Dean sad that Cas had to worry so much about his father finding out about them. Sure, things sucked with Dean and his own dad now, but at least he knew and it was over with. Neither of them had any idea what would happen if Cas’s dad found out about them. 

“I didn’t bring you lunch so at least let me refill your drink,” Dean said, standing up and holding out his hand for Cas’s glass. He took the glass out of the room and ran right into Naomi. Literally. She had to have been standing right next to the doorway. Since Dean had just been looking in that direction, he knew she didn’t just walk up. She’d been there, waiting, for some reason. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” he said sarcastically, glaring down into her eyes. “You can buy our tape in the lobby if you want to keep listening.” 

Naomi didn’t bother to reply. That didn’t stop her from smiling triumphantly, as if she had won something here. Dean shook his head and went to fill up the glass at the bar. He didn’t understand her, but he knew enough. He couldn’t stand her. 


	11. Chapter 11

Dean didn’t mention anything to Cas about Naomi eavesdropping on them. She already knew they were together, so what difference did it make? He wondered if he should have an hour later, when he saw Naomi approach Mr. Novak. Mr. Novak’s expression soured in response to whatever she said, then he gestured for her to follow him into his office in the back. 

Dean’s stomach turned. Sure Naomi was a bitch, but she wouldn’t actually tell Cas’s dad about them, would she? That would be going too far. If she wanted to tell him, she would’ve told him as soon as she heard Dean call Cas “angel,” right? Right. That was hours ago. Except. 

This morning she hadn’t heard Cas imply that his father didn’t know about them. He only said that at lunch. 

No, he was just being paranoid. Maybe Naomi was just asking for her daily person to suck blood from or something. Or looking for ingredients for her next hex bag. Or asking Mr. Novak to refrigerate the human heart she was planning to have for dinner. Ok, he was starting to feel better. 

____

By the end of the day, he’d forgotten all about it. He was just listening to Led Zeppelin in his room when his phone rang. His heart skipped like it always did when the phone rang. There was a chance it wasn’t Cas, but it wasn't a very good chance. Especially because it was eleven at night. 

“Hello?” he answered, and he could hear the smile in his own voice. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, and Dean could hear that Cas had a smile to match his. 

If they didn’t work together that day, they always called each other that night. A lot of the time they talked on the phone even if they had spent the whole day together. 

“How was your day?” Cas asked. His voice sounded just a little deeper on the phone, and somehow more  _ cuddly.  _ Dean couldn’t explain it, but it was what it was. Every time he heard Cas on the phone he just wanted to hold him until he fell asleep. Then again, he always wanted to hold Cas anyway. 

“You tell me,” Dean joked. “You were there the entire time.” 

“No, I missed a few hours. I was closing tonight. And I missed you, sweetheart.” 

Dean ran his hand through his hair and laughed from joy. He just couldn’t believe that Cas wanted him as much as he wanted Cas. And Cas was starting to pick up on the pet name thing, which Dean couldn’t get enough of. Not that he’d ever admit it. 

“Well, Dad and I went to Sammy’s soccer game. He did alright. He’s fast but gangly. Gave up the ball a few times. Dad told him about how he could do better next time the whole ride home. I told him he did great. It’s great to see him out there, just having fun. He deserves to just be a happy kid.” 

“So do you,” Cas said earnestly. 

“I’m not a kid.” 

“Technically the law says that you are.” 

Dean smirked. 

“So you’re hooking up with a kid?” he asked smugly. Cas sighed. 

“Fine, Dean, you’re not a kid. You’re a big, strong man. Does that make you feel better?”

“Yeah it does. Thank you very much.” 

“I closed with Jo tonight,” Cas said haltingly, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to share the story. 

“How did that go?” Dean raised a curious eyebrow even though Cas couldn’t see it. 

“Fine. She said she’s happy for me. For us. She’s a really good person.” Dean closed his eyes. Cas continued. “I feel bad about what we- what happened with her.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. He didn’t really want to talk about this. He wanted to be happy and have fun talking to his boy. 

“Well, let’s talk about something happy,” Cas said after a pause. Same wavelength, Cas and Dean. 

“I’m listening,” Dean said, sitting up excitedly even though he didn’t have any idea what Cas had in mind. It didn’t matter. It was something Cas wanted to talk with him about. That was always exciting. 

“My dad talked to me today.”

Dean froze. He thought of Naomi. This was happy? He didn’t say anything, so Cas kept going. 

“He said he’ll help pay for me to go away to school in the fall! To a university, Dean! And that way I can go to law school, and I can become a lawyer, and help people!” Dean didn’t think he’d ever heard Cas so excited. His words were coming out choppy, interrupted by frantic breaths. 

Dean wished he could share in that excitement. But he knew something Cas didn’t. Cas’s dad wanted to keep him languishing away at the diner forever until now? Now he wanted to pay to send Cas away? The day that Naomi talked to him? He wanted to believe that was a coincidence, but he didn’t really believe in coincidence. In his line of work, it was rare to nonexistent. 

“Baby, that’s great,” he said, mustering as much enthusiasm as he could. “Did he- did he say why? Or anything?”

“No,” Cas said thoughtfully, pausing. “He just finished with ‘As long as you don’t embarrass me.’ I asked him what that meant and he said not to treat him like he was stupid. Dean, you don’t think he knows, do you?”

Son of a bitch. Now he was trapped. He had to decide right now whether to ruin the best news Cas had ever gotten, or to lie to him. 

“Nah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sure he doesn’t.” 

“Good,” Cas said, accepting his answer immediately. He obviously desperately wanted to believe it. “It’s normally too late to apply but my aunt has some connections up in Virginia and my dad says he thinks we can pull it off. I think I’ll major in history if they don’t have a pre-law major. Some schools don’t have pre-law majors.” 

Dean laid on the bed, listening to Cas gush about his future. He was disgusted with himself. He was so selfish. Here Cas was, so thrilled. And all Dean could hear him say was “I’m leaving you, I’m leaving you, I’m leaving you.” 

But what right did he have to be upset at Cas for that? Did he plan to set up roots in New Jersey? Leave his dad and Sammy and start a new life as a waiter? Of course not. This was supposed to be a summer fling. It wasn’t, but it was supposed to be. Now he had to deal with whatever came. 

He answered at Cas’s pauses, asking questions about whether Cas would live in the dorms, whether he’d go to the same school for law school, anything he could think of to let Cas talk about it. This was exciting for Cas, and Dean wasn’t trying to ruin that for him. 

The conversation turned towards work, and movies they liked; and when it was past 4 in the morning, incoherent nonsense Dean couldn’t remember as soon as he said it. They were so tired they were delirious, but they refused to stop talking to each other. Dean was half asleep and couldn’t even remember what Cas had actually said and what he had imagined Cas saying in a half-dream. 

“Did you say something about bees? You told me a story about a guy covered in bees? Or did I imagine that?” he muttered, not even sure if he was talking out loud. 

“I don’t remember,” Cas mumbled. 

If Dean were more awake, he would’ve realized that falling asleep with Cas on the phone was the safest he’d felt since he was four years old. But he just fell asleep, listening to Cas breathe. 

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Dean whispered into the phone when he opened his eyes and the first rays of sunlight were streaming through the window. 

“Mm mm,” Cas uttered. “Love you but ‘m sleepin. Leave me alone.” 

Dean sat up in bed, staring at the phone. Cas was already back to the heavy, rhythmic breathing of a boy who was blissfully unaware he’d just said “I love you” for the first time. 

Did this count? Did he mean it? Did he know who he was talking to? Maybe he’d dreamt he was talking to George Clooney or something, or Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp was hot. Yeah, that was it. Cas didn’t mean it. 

Dean left the call going, staring at the ceiling and listening to Cas breathe. He tried to go back to sleep, considering he’d gotten less than an hour. But there was no way he could do that now. 

What if he lost him? What if something took Cas away from him, or Cas decided he didn’t want him anymore? Dean turned onto his side and curled up in a ball. Thinking of losing Cas was making his stomach hurt. What was he supposed to do when he went back to hunting? When Cas left for school? He didn’t want anything but his angel. 

He must’ve eventually dozed off, because he opened his eyes to Cas’s voice on the other end of the phone. 

“Baby, are you awake?” Cas whispered. Dean’s eyes flew open. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. 

“Can I ask you about something? Did I say something when I was falling asleep?” Adrenaline shot through Dean at the question. So they were going to talk about this. 

“What do you mean?” he hedged. Cas laughed. 

“Did I say something about bees? I remember saying something about bees.” 

___

When Dean went into work next, he found Cas, Jo, and Meg chatting animatedly at the bar. 

“You should take a theater class when you go,” Meg was saying to Cas. “They’re full of weirdos. You’d fit right in.” 

“You should take any class,” Cas retorted. “If you try to go through life at your current intelligence level, you won’t have an easy time.” Meg and Jo laughed appreciatively. They turned to look at Dean when he walked up. 

“So, are you gonna go to Virginia with your boy?” Meg asked. Jo shifted her weight from one foot to the other, but otherwise she didn’t seem to react negatively. 

Dean looked down. He didn’t even know how to begin to answer that question. But they were all looking at him, so he had to say something. 

“I can’t. I gotta look out for my little brother,” he said simply. He looked up at Cas, but Cas was looking off to the side. He nodded solemnly. They both knew the mess they were in. 

“Okay, well let’s end this before these two start crying,” Meg said, lightly tugging on Jo’s arm and guiding her away. 

“Dean,” Cas said seriously, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder. He only left it on for a second, short enough to seem platonic, but Dean understood. “We should talk about the end of the summer.” 

“Do you want to go to the movies tonight?” Dean asked, and even he could hear the desperation in his voice. 

“Dean, we have to talk about-”

“There’s this cop movie out, I’ve been meaning to see it. Sammy wants to see it but it’s rated R and-”

“Dean.”

“So obviously Sammy can’t see it but maybe if it’s not too bad when we see it then I can let him see it too.” 

Cas sighed, looking at Dean with a strange mix of pity and adoration. 

“Yes,” he said. “I want to go to the movies tonight.” 


	12. Chapter 12

Dean tried to get Cas leaving out of his head. He knew, he’d always known, that they’d only get to see each other for the summer. He was a hunter. Cas had his own life, his own dreams. That might’ve been the plan before, but it wasn’t good enough now. Since they’d gotten to the theater, he’d almost built up the courage to talk to Cas about the future three times.

The first time, they were in line to buy snacks. Just when Dean was about to say, “What if we had a schedule of visits so we’d see each other as much as possible?” they were waved forward and Cas was ordering a large popcorn and two cherry Icees. The second time was as they’d walked into the dark theater. Dean opened his mouth to say “How often can we talk on the phone when you’re at school?” But Cas pointed excitedly at a trailer that had just come on, saying how much he wanted to see the movie. 

The third time was now. There was a Coca Cola commercial playing on the screen, and they’d pulled up the arm rest between them so that Dean could lean on Cas. He could hear Cas’s heart beating if he focused on it. 

“Angel,” he whispered. Cas looked down at him, the light of the screen reflecting on his eyes. 

“Yes?” Cas answered, taking a big drink of his Icee. It was already starting to turn the inside of his lips a deep red. He kissed the top of Dean’s head absently, like an instinct. 

“Maybe you could do one of those online schools,” Dean whispered as the remaining lights in the theater went down and the movie started. “I heard they count as college. And you could just come with me on hunts.” 

To Dean’s surprise, Cas shifted away from him, turning his body towards Dean as if making sure that Dean could see the disgusted look on his face better. 

“I can’t get into a good law school with an online degree,” he said, at a volume that was almost his normal speaking voice. It was too loud for the theater. Dean resisted the urge to shush him. 

“Well, sure you could,” Dean argued in a whisper. “School is school, right?” Cas bristled. 

“Yes, Dean, school is school. As a matter of fact, why don’t I just stay here and finish at the junior college and not go to law school at all?” Cas crossed his arms and turned toward the screen. 

Dean could feel his heart beat in his temple. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go at all. He turned toward the screen, the changing scenes flashing in front of his eyes but not registering with him. All he wanted to do was say “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” It would have been so easy. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say anything. He was too tense to even reach for popcorn or take a drink. 

The last time Cas had been mad at him they’d fought it out, which had actually been hot and pretty efficient. Violence was a lot easier than talking things out. Damn, he was screwed up. 

The movie kept playing, and Cas kept staring at the screen. Dean caught him looking over out of the corner of his eye once or twice, and Dean knew Cas was expecting Dean to say something. 

An hour in they were still in a stalemate, and Dean was feeling more and more panicked about it. The more panicked he got, though, the more impossible it sounded to just tell Cas that his suggestion didn’t come out right. That he just wanted to be with him, he didn’t mean to belittle Cas’s goals. He needed a break from the tension. He opened his mouth to say something, and Cas immediately turned towards him, giving Dean his full attention. Dean’s heart pounded. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he whispered, standing up and sliding past Cas’s legs to get out of the aisle. Cas narrowed his eyes. 

Dean made his way down the dark theater steps and out into the light of the lobby. When he got into the bathroom, he stood and looked at himself in the mirror. 

“I can do this,” he coached. “I can just apologize. It’s not that hard.” 

Except. Cas did kind of react negatively right off the bat, didn’t he? That wasn’t cool. Dean had only said anything out of love, because he didn’t want to lose Cas. Cas was kind of being a dick about it.

By the time Dean made it back to his seat, it didn’t matter to him if Cas was still freezing him out. He wouldn’t talk to Cas even if Cas wanted to talk to him. They just sat there next to each other, pretending they were alone. Except when Dean glanced over at Cas just to check on him, which was more often than he’d have liked to admit. 

After a while, Dean had started to actually get into the movie. The cop had a girlfriend who told him to be careful when he went out on his beat that night. She said she loved him and didn’t want to lose him. Dean glanced at Cas and caught Cas peeking over at him. Cas jumped slightly when they made eye contact. He looked away, but Dean could see a small smile on his lips. 

Dean wanted to believe that Cas understood. That he loved him and just didn’t want to lose him. 

When the cop in the movie got shot and his girlfriend was waiting at the hospital for him to get surgery, Dean took advantage of the emotional scene and tentatively reached out and took Cas’s hand. Cas squeezed his hand and leaned against his shoulder. This cop movie was supposed to be action-packed, not this romance crap, but Dean had to admit it turned out better this way. 

Relief settled over Dean and he relaxed, drinking his Icee and basking in the joy when Cas snuggled closer to him. Maybe they didn’t have a plan, but they knew they were important to each other. That was enough. 

They followed the other moviegoers out of the theater when the movie was over. As their eyes adjusted to the light of the lobby, Dean put his arm loosely around Cas’s shoulder. It looked platonic enough not to draw any attention to them, and it gave him a chance to be close to Cas. 

Well, it looked platonic enough to strangers, people who weren’t on the lookout to confirm whether it was true that Cas and Dean were together. Unfortunately, not everyone at the theater fit that description. 

Dean’s heart sank when he made eye contact with Mr. Novak across the movie theater lobby. He was standing next to some woman, but the bitter hardness in his eyes suggested he had forgotten all about her in favor of what he saw in front of him. Dean didn’t have to read minds to know he was thinking with fury that Naomi had been right about his son. 

Cas looked at Dean with concern when Dean pulled his arm away, following Dean’s eyes to his father. He froze to the spot, turning pale. Dean wanted to wrap his arms around him and tell him that everything was going to turn out fine, but he didn’t. Because Mr. Novak had abandoned his date and was charging over to them. 

“Let’s go, Castiel,” he said, grabbing Cas’s arm and yanking him forward. Dean was at a loss. He tried desperately to think of something, anything, to say to fix this. 

“It’s not what you think,” he tried, talking loudly at Mr. Novak’s turned back. Mr. Novak turned around and scowled at Dean with a quiet revulsion.

“So you’re not gay for my son?” he asked, almost imperceptibly cringing on the word “gay.” 

Dean, an expert at lying when it was necessary, suddenly hesitated. To say “no” was such a deep betrayal of himself that his entire being balked at it. For once, he didn’t want to accept less than he deserved. He didn’t want to be treated however people -  _ fathers  _ \- wanted to treat him. But he glanced at Cas and saw his fear-widened eyes. 

“No, I’m not,” he said. He’d tried to make it sound sincere, but it was a pathetic attempt. 

“Yeah, right,” Mr. Novak said, turning and walking away. Cas stood frozen, staring at Dean, until his father snapped his fingers. Cas winced and quickly followed. 

Dean watched them leave. He didn’t move even after they’d gone out the glass doors and faded from his view. He just stood there, wondering how things had gone so badly so quickly. 

That night, Cas didn’t call. Dean wasn’t surprised. He wanted to call himself, but he didn’t want to make things worse for Cas than they already were. He’d see him at work tomorrow, and he’d hold him, and everything would be ok.

Dean slept fitfully that night. He dreamt that Cas died, and no one would acknowledge it. He kept begging his father, Sammy, Jo, and Meg to mention Cas, to tell him what happened, but everyone just smiled and laughed. The dream left a lingering feeling of horror that would’ve been hard to shake under normal circumstances. After what had happened last night, it was impossible. 

___

The chiming of the diner door bell hurt his ears when Dean walked into the diner that morning. He’d forgotten to ask Cas when he started working today, so all he could do was hope that Cas was already here. It seemed unlikely, considering most of the lights in the diner were still off. 

“Mr. Winchester.” Mr. Novak came out of the kitchen, obviously having heard the bell that announced Dean’s arrival. For a ridiculous moment, Dean wondered if it was just the two of them, and if they were going to fight. Dean wished that would be the case. “Come into my office, please.” 

The words were courteous, but the tone left no questions. This was not intended to be a pleasant meeting. 

Dean followed Cas’s father through the kitchen and to his office in the back. His heart jumped when he saw Cas already in his father’s office, standing behind the desk. The expression on Cas’s face made Dean’s blood run cold. Cas was staring forward blankly, his face set into a mask of stone. He was looking in Dean’s general direction, but not at him. Mr. Novak sat in his desk chair and gestured for Dean to sit in one of the two black vinyl chairs across from him. Dean complied wordlessly. 

All Dean could think was  _ what  _ was going on with Cas? It was like someone had removed his personality, his essence, his  _ soul. _

“Things aren't working out,” Mr. Novak said. He picked a white envelope off his desk and handed it to Dean. 

Dean hadn’t even registered what he’d heard yet. He just slid his finger across the envelope, tearing it open. It was a check. 

“Your final paycheck,” Mr. Novak explained emotionlessly. He was the picture of professionalism. 

Somewhere inside of him, Dean was starting to understand what was happening here. He was getting fired. For being in love with - no, for being  _ gay for,  _ that was the apparent crime - the owner’s son. The room increased by a dozen degrees. Dean stood up. 

“You can’t just fire me,” he said, even though the owner of the diner could do whatever he wanted. What was Dean going to do about it? “Cas is my manager,” he continued desperately. He didn’t care about being fired. He cared that Cas was just standing there, not even looking at him. “It should be his decision.” 

“Alright, then,” Mr. Novak said, raising his eyebrows slightly. He obviously expected this to go more quickly, but he seemed sure that he’d win the end. “Say your goodbyes, Castiel.” 

Cas swallowed and took a deep breath. 

“Dean, we don’t have a choice,” Cas said, as if he’d rehearsed this. 

Dean swallowed back bile. He wished with everything in him that he hadn’t mentioned Cas just now, that he hadn’t brought him into this conversation. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t care if Cas didn’t love him, he’d be his friend. He’d be his coworker. He’d do anything if he didn’t have to lose him. 

“I have to go away to school,” Cas said, rattling off an explanation. “I have to have somewhere to live.”

Of course. If Cas didn’t go along with this, his father wouldn’t pay for his school. His father would kick him out. Keeping Dean wasn’t worth losing all of that. Dean had to admit that. He swiped a hand over his stinging eyes. 

“It doesn’t make sense for us to keep sneaking around together forever,” Cas continued. Every word was a punch in Dean’s stomach. “You deserve better than that, Dean. So do I.”

For a split second, the phrase “sneaking around” had given Dean hope. That was still an option, wasn’t it? But the truth extinguished that hope like a boot stomping out a cigarette. Dean knew Cas. He could read those blue eyes.

Right now, past the facade of his stony expression, Cas’s eyes were screaming his pain. They said that Cas was a man strapped to the pyre, and the flames were licking higher. Cas meant goodbye. And it was killing him. 

“Don’t do this, Cas,” Dean pleaded. He’d do anything. He’d get down on his knees and beg if it meant that Cas wouldn’t leave him. “I love you.” 

Cas flinched like Dean had hit him. Tears came to his eyes, but Dean watched as he blinked them away. He shook his head and went back to staring through Dean. 

“That’s enough,” Mr. Novak, harshness breaking through his detached demeanor. 

Numbly, Dean stood up and left the office. Heartbreak spread through his entire body, aching like poison in his veins. He passed Jo when he got to the doorway. She was blurry as he brushed past her. He swiped a hand over his eyes. 

When he got into the Impala, he leaned his head on his knees and thought, over and over again, what he’d said to Cas and what he’d be saying if he were still in there. 

_ Don’t do this, Cas. I love you. I love you! Nothing matters without you. I don’t know who I am without you.  _

But even as the tears made it hard to see the road on his drive home, Dean couldn’t blame Cas. It was a miracle that he’d even wanted Dean in the first place. 


	13. Chapter 13

Sam just about had a heart attack when Dean shoved open the front door. 

“Dean! What happened to you?”

Dean looked at Sam, who was wide-eyed with concern and still in his Scooby Doo pajamas. John had glanced up at Sam’s exclamation, and was watching Dean with a furrowed brow. 

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Dean said, even though he didn’t even want to. He wanted to tell Sam that he wished he couldn’t feel anything. He wished he couldn’t feel a damn thing. But what good would that do? It wouldn’t make Cas want him back. Instead, he went to his room and collapsed on the bed. 

When a sharp knock was followed immediately by the door swinging open, Dean sniffled and tried to adopt a neutral expression. He wasn’t expecting a heart to heart with his old man about the perils of love, and he wasn’t surprised when it didn’t come. 

“Get your things together,” John said abruptly. “There’s a string of strange deaths in Cheltenham, Pennsylvania. They sound like curses. We might have a witch on our hands.” 

Dean got up immediately. If there was one thing he could stand to do right now, it was kill things. Maybe it would keep him from thinking about - things. Even thinking Cas’s name felt like carving into his chest. 

They packed up the Impala and hit the road. The trip was just an hour and a half at John’s driving speed, down the Garden State Parkway. Dean watched the endless stream of green woods out his window, pressing his cheek against the cold window. 

He tried to get excited about the hunt. Witches were particularly evil from what they’d learned from John, and Dean had never actually had a chance to gank one before. This was what he did. This was the family business. Just him, Sammy, and their dad. Family was the most important thing. It was the only thing he needed. 

When a little voice in the back of his mind suggested that Cas could’ve been family too, he turned up the music loud enough to drown it out. 

___

Cheltenham was a little township in a suburb of Philadelphia, where Dean imagined they didn’t get much monster action. His suspicions were confirmed when every person they talked to told them about the recent mysterious deaths. They’d clearly taken the community by storm. 

On their second day in town, they finished their last interview, the mother of a 20 year old who had died by randomly choking on his own tongue right in front of her. Her husband had also died in the past few days. He’d apparently bludgeoned himself with a hammer from his own toolbox. John had found the hex bags for the victims easily.

When they got back to the Impala, where Sam was waiting, John was talking through the mystery. 

“That woman we just talked to has to be our witch. Two of the victims are obviously connected to her. We just have to find the connections to the other victim.” 

Dean couldn’t bring himself to agree. There was a message in that boy choking on his tongue. Something about his words that the witch didn’t like, maybe. Or his silence. 

“Did you see the picture of the tongue kid on the mantel?” Dean asked boldly. Hunting was one thing he was getting good at, and he wasn’t afraid to prove it. John looked at him thoughtfully and shook his head. “He had his arm around the other vic. The first girl.” The first victim had the word “bitch” carved into her chest, apparently self-inflicted, and had shoved the carving knife down her throat. 

John beamed with pride. 

“Atta, boy!” he said, slapping Dean on the back. “Way to notice the details. So what does that mean?”   
  


Dean had a hunch, and he wanted to pursue it. 

“Wait here,” he told his dad, heading back up to the house of the woman they had last spoken with. He knocked on the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he said with a polite smile. “One more question. Do you know if your son hung out with any other girls? Like friends even, or anything?”

The woman scowled. Bingo. 

“There was that Crystal girl,” she said with distaste. “He brought her over once or twice, but we told him we didn’t want him around girls like that.”

“Girls like what?” 

“Goth,” she whispered, wrinkling her nose. “She wore too much black eyeliner all over her face. She was always showing her cleavage. Trashy, you know. I tried telling my husband to let it run its course, but he was so hard-headed. He told our son he was forbidden to see Crystal. We were much happier when he started dating Emily instead. But I gave him a ride to work one or twice and I saw him still interacting with that Crystal.” 

Dean tried not to grin, because this was not a moment to celebrate. But his hunch had been right. He thanked her after getting more information about Crystal and headed back to the Impala with his arms raised in victory. John laughed. 

“Our witch’s name is Crystal. Little on the nose, if you ask me. Anyway, I’d be willing to bet Baby on the fact that she was in a secret relationship with tongue boy and she wasn’t too happy with him for keeping it from the world and dating another girl.” He broke down what he’d discovered, about the father forbidding the relationship and the other girl being more accepted by the boy’s parents. The father and the girlfriend were both dead now. Dean really didn’t believe in coincidence. 

As they headed down the road to take care of this Crystal witch, Dean tried not to think too hard about how he’d figured this one out. Secret relationships were just on his mind. 

That was where the parallels ended, though. He’d never want anything bad to happen to Cas. Witches were sick. 

___

They were heading out the next morning. John left them at the hotel to pick up breakfast, so Sam and Dean got the room packed up while he was gone. 

“Did something happen between you and Cas?” Sam asked, finally. Dean could see him the past couple days, trying to build up the courage to ask. Although Dean had no intention of getting into details, he had to tell Sam something. Otherwise he felt like he was living that dream in real life. Cas was gone and everyone just went on like things were normal. 

“Yeah, his dad found out. Threatened to kick him out if he didn’t end things. So he did.” His voice was firm when he said it, but even from his own mouth the words crushed his heart. Acknowledging the way that Cas had left him was too much. 

“Well, he can just move out, right? He can come hunting with us.” Sam was trying to make this work, and for some reason that Dean couldn’t explain, that irritated the crap out of him. 

“Sam, stop. This is what he wants.”

“No, it isn’t,” Sam said with more confidence than a 13 year old should rightfully have. “I’ve been with you guys. I saw the way he looked at you. He loves you.”

Dean felt a lump in his throat. He looked away from Sam to shove a pair of jeans into his suitcase and zipped it up, throwing it on the floor. He couldn’t speak, so he just shook his head. Just because Sam wanted things to be a certain way, didn’t mean they were that way. It wasn’t realistic. 

“Finish packing,” Dean said when he could answer. He went out into the hallway and found a vending machine. Sam’s words kept running through his head.  _ He loves you. He loves you.  _ He kicked the vending machine when the Slim Jim didn’t come out right away. Then he kicked it after it came out, just because it felt good to kick something. 

They loaded up the car when John got back, and started back to New Jersey. As he watched the same woods pass their window, Dean was distressed to realize that he didn’t feel any better. He’d gotten his first witch, which was supposed to be exciting. But what was the point of having something exciting if he couldn’t talk to Cas about it? There was no point. 

John asked on the way back what part of the country they’d be traveling to next. Well, he was certainly perceptive about the change in Dean’s life. He hadn’t even asked. 

“We’re finishing the summer here,” Dean said assertively. “Sir,” he added when John eyed him with warning. “Sammy is still having a good summer.” The silent “even if I’m not” was heard by everyone in the car. 

“Yeah, Dad,” Sam chimed in. He was sorry for Dean, but obviously still thrilled to have a summer to be a normal kid. 

John nodded stiffly, turning the music back up. 

___

When they got back to the apartment complex, holding their bags at their sides, John reacted before Dean saw anything. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered. “Go on, Dean. You have a visitor.” The encouragement was stiff and unsure. Dean walked closer to their apartment. 

Dean thought maybe his heart stopped. Was this heaven? No wonder people made such a big deal out of it. Sitting with his back against their front door was Cas.

He dropped his bag and was about to run for Cas when he stopped himself. Just because Cas was here didn’t change anything. Cas was a good person, and probably just wanted to apologize for the way things had gone. That didn’t mean that he actually wanted Dean. It just meant that he didn’t like stomping on someone’s heart and never talking to them again. 

So instead, Dean picked up his bag and walked slowly up to his front door. He glanced back to see John and Sam waiting by the car. Sam was watching so carefully he should have had binoculars, but John had his back turned. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, eyeing Dean warily and standing up. 

“How’d you know we’d be getting back today?” Dean asked. The more questions he asked, the longer he could keep Cas here. Cas smiled sheepishly. 

“I didn’t,” he confessed. “I’ve been coming here for three days. If you guys had gotten here at night I would’ve missed you.” 

That was a lot to do just to be nice. Hope flared in Dean’s chest. 

“Ok, why?” he asked carefully. Cas tilted his head to the side like that question made no sense. 

“To tell you that I’m sorry.” Dean’s heart sank. Oh. That was it. Cas smiled. “And to tell you that I love you, Dean Winchester.” 

For a moment, Dean could’ve sworn that the ground disappeared and he was floating. Cas loved him. Dean didn’t know what to do. All he could do was stand there and beam at Cas like an idiot. 

“Well, are you gonna come kiss me or do I have to sit on your doorstep for another day?”

Dean laughed and barreled into Cas, knocking him into the apartment door. He grabbed Cas’s face in his hands and kissed him hard. 

“I love you,” he said, then went back to kissing him. He only stopped when he heard Sam clear his throat from right behind him. Cas and Dean turned to look at him, unbridled joy lighting up their features. 

“Um,” Sam started. “Dad wanted me to tell you ‘That’s enough’ and to get out of the way so we can get in the house.” Dean chuckled and looked towards the car, where John was still facing away. Only when Sam shouted, “Ok, Dad!” did he turn around and walk up to the apartment. He gave Cas a stiff nod and pushed inside. Sam followed. 

Dean put a hand against Cas’s cheek, soaking in every second that he got to look at him. The last few days felt like a nightmare that he’d finally escaped. 

“What about your dad?” he asked, brushing back a piece of Cas’s hair. 

“I told him that I loved you, and that he could still pay for my school under those conditions if he wanted to, but I wasn’t going to pretend to be someone I wasn’t anymore.” 

“Did he say he’d give you the money?” 

Cas laughed, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. 

“Of course not. He told me to get the hell out. I’ve been staying with Meg for a few days until I find a place. Guess it’ll be awhile before I can pay for school.” 

Dean’s heart hurt. He pulled Cas into a hug, holding him tightly for a long time. Wait. He had an idea he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of before. 

“You can pay for school,” he said, pulling back to smile at his boy. 

“How?” 

Dean grinned mischievously. 

“How do you feel about credit card fraud?”


	14. Chapter 14

Cas, Dean, and Sam stood on the banks of Lake Superior, their toes in the cold, blue water. Cas was on spring break from the University of Virginia, so Dean had suggested they take a trip together. 

After Cas and Dean’s reunion, Dean had shown Cas how to get an apartment with credit cards, and even made him a few law enforcement ID’s in case he needed them to get out of trouble. Dean spent more time at Cas’s apartment over the rest of the summer than he spent at his own, but he was still over often enough to be with Sammy. 

September had loomed over them like a vengeful spirit, but it had to come eventually. Dean was there to help Cas set up his dorm room. Cas made sure he got his own room when Dean pointed out that if he had a roommate, “that roommate will be sleeping in the hallway most nights.” 

After Cas started school, Dean got back to hunting with Sam and their dad. The summer break brought an exhilaration back to the job, and most days Dean got to call Cas with an exciting story about his successes on the road. Every few weeks he’d head down to Virginia to spend a week in Cas’s dorm. It wasn’t technically allowed for students to keep guests that long, but they weren’t asking permission. 

Now, as they watched the breeze ripple over the water, Dean couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had everything he’d never dared to ask for. 

He used to think Lake Superior was the most beautiful sight he’d ever laid eyes on. It had been relegated to second place. First place belonged to the crystal blue- eyed angel standing next to him. His angel. 

Sometimes he still took out that fortune Sam had saved for him, back when Dean was hiding what he really wanted. 

It had said “The only you that’s worth being is the real you.”

Hell, maybe they were onto something. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I love these boys so much. This is my first fanfic long enough to have chapters, so that's exciting. If you wanna hmu I'm on tumblr @casbandicoot


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